Growing old gracefully is easier said than done. The old adage of using it or losing it is indeed true. Therefore, I must find a way to gainfully employ the use of my brain to keep my synapes fired up. Hence, my blog.
When my Mother helped me pick out training bras, I never thought I'd ever see the day when I'd be picking out men's undershirts for her to be wearing some 50 years later. There is something very wrong with this. Apparently, 90 year old women no longer wear brassieres. Wow, there is a word not used very often these days! I suspect that type of support is no longer indicated thus allowing said appendages to be allowed to all hang out. Maybe out is not the proper word to be used here. Hang down may be the more adequate description. So when the aide at my Mother's Retirement Community, requested me to supply her with the said missing articles of clothing, I agreed to carry out the mission. Only now I am having reservations. Should I buy short or no sleeved shirts? She just doesn't seem to be the type to be wearing the wife beater's version.