When our mouths write checks, our asses cash them

Ending a long, seasonal hibernation, things Betty did in a three-hour period this afternoon, in chronological order:

–Say to me in her kitchen, “I complain about being bored, and then I think, ‘You sit at home all day. Get off your ass and go do something.'”

–Paint her nails frosted pink

–Clean house, vacuum stairs in spite of two busted knees

–Text me, “Do u have plans for the night?”

–Decline my offer to join friends and me for crocheting and sketching later in the evening, offer to buy me a drink

–Shower, do her hair and make-up

–Meet me at an Irish pub and drink bottle of Bud Light (“Waitress better get her ass over here with my beer, or she’s fired”)

–Drink second bottle of Bud Light

–Make plans to go out Tuesday

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