Cranky Bunkers

 Q: Why do we get old?

A: What you mean to ask is, why do we get cranky? Or why do we allow old people to be cranky? It's like their right to crank or something. The other day when we went to the Superstore, there was an old lady there - you know the kind: the plastic hair net, even when it's dry out - and she was taking FOREVER and EVER and EVER and EVER to get her change purse out and I accidentally bumped into her because I was going a thousand miles an hour around the corner. Big whoop, right? I'm 7. But the look she gave me was like something right off of Archie Bunker, so dad says.

Anyway, she looks at me, points her little pointy finger right at me and says, "You should watch where you're going missy." Really, well you should buy a new hat because I totally can't take you seriously right now, so that's why I'm still smiling. And then she has a the nerve to say, "I'd take that smile off your face." There were lots of people around and they all just let her say it like it was her right to crank. Holy moly. Dad said, "oh she's just excited," but the old lady scowled at him too!!! Then dad said something about a few fries short of a happy meal under his breath. No idea how he can think about McDonald's when old women are unraveling in the grocery store. 

Anyway, she managed to finally count her money and give it to the clerk while giving me dirty looks the whole time. I thought someone should have been there with her, but she seems very independent. That is, until we drove by 2 hours later and she was still pushing the cart up the street - going like an inch a minute. Then I kind of felt bad for her. Then I didn't again. But then I did again. I hope she made it home at least. Even cranky ladies deserve exercise.

This old lady already had her workout: