Well, that leg hair that was crawling toward Papi's groin has surpassed it's destination.
It's now overflowing up my love's stomach.
Mi esposo had lifted his shirt to display his pale white belly, accompanied by, "Do you want to touch it?!"
I'm sure you know what my reaction was. "No, I don't want to touch it, it probably feels like a Brillo pad."
"No! It's soft!"
Yeah Papi, for now it is.
The Tranny Terrorist was on turbo yesterday.
We went for our Thanksgiving dinner with G'ma and my love jumped into harassing the old bird.
The topic at the dinner table was her demise.
Sounds nice eh?
My love started to arrange G'ma's post mortem affairs.
I just continued to eat food that is really bad for me.
ah french fries ... you are so good, and yet so bad for me ...
G'ma just continued to eat her Caesar Salad and Chicken Pot Pie.
True to any elder turning back into a child, the majority of her salad was on her lap.
At one point, there was a piece of Romaine lettuce hanging from her mouth that was so long, it was still touching the plate.
With this old bird, it's possible to have a secret interaction between Papi and I without her knowing. Merely cover your mouth and don't react like there's a conversation happening and she will never know the difference.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I asked while trying not to move my lips and look like I'm focused on my meal.
"Oh yeah," Papi answered while be both used our peripheral vision to watch as the piece of Romaine lettuce got bitten at tooth level and the rest of the lettuce fell to G'ma's lap.
But neither of us really reacted.
Wouldn't want to embarrass the old fart, y'know?
We swapped covert giggles and waited for the next piece of dinner evade G'ma's mouth.
As we neared the end of our dinner, ...
i was already feeling the effects of the potato. droooooopy eyes and a headache ... really?! are the fries worth it?!? ahem. yes.
... we decided to get some pictures of the old coot.
You never know.
This could be her last Thanksgiving.
At this age, you don't know when she's going to expire, so every event could be the last.
However, she always seems to 'one up' us and lives to see another one.
96 years and still kicking.
So, I thought I'd share the picture with you.
Now, you see a loving grand-tranny with the old poop in a nice Thanksgiving portrait.
However you don't really get the full effect unless you zoom in.
This is how you can see Papi's chicken bone hanging out of his mouth is upstaging G'ma's food that's hanging from her lip.
We have nothing but class in our small family.
Class I tell ya.