Spoiled Milk Milkshakes

She stood there in front of the mirror in her itsy-bisty, teeny-weeny, yellow polka dot bikini. She hadn’t worn it since the summer 0f 1950, when she had been 18 years old and into the rebellious stuff. Truth be told, she had forgotten all about the thing, and it sure looked a lot smaller now then it had 60 years ago… Or maybe she had just grown horizontally…

She posed, thinking, ’My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard…" Then she looked at the mirror again, and re-thought, ’Not anymore…"

Unfortunately, age had taken its toll, and the only boy that would come to her yard for a milkshake nowadays was her husband of 47 years, and the only way that he could get to her yard for a milkshake would be a power scooter…

“Hon!” she heard his voice from the living room, “This magazine Melinda left here says that those new-fangled Japanese LCD TVs are, quote, like, better than yours, unquote! We should get one!”

The woman sighed one last time. ‘I keep forgetting that he’s lactose-intolerant.’

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