Grammy Walking

I've heard it said that older people tend to hunch when they walk and take smaller steps. The condition came upon me faster than I thought possible when I walked behind my grandson, Caspian, at Christmas.
Life is short. Do something you love.

Sweet Little Bunnies

I saw the strangest ad tacked up on the community bulletin board at our local grocery store. On a lined sheet of notebook paper torn from a three-ring binder were soft blue letters proclaiming, "Little bunnies, $3.00 each, 555-1093" Then, in black words scattered among the blue was written, "cuddle" "eat" "whatever."

An unexpected shower

I don't know about those automatic bathroom fixtures. You know, the ones where you just wave your hands, or your backside, depending on which commodity you're using, and it automatically does what it's supposed to? Flushing, dispensing water, soap, towels, or hot air are things I'd really rather do myself. I mean, I've stood in a bathroom stall before, waiting for things to disappear before I unlocked the door. And waiting. And waiting. Until, finally, FLOOSH! There it goes, and I can leave at last.
One time, I went into a restroom that had an automatic flusher, an automatic faucet, and an automatic soap dispenser, so naturally when I needed a towel, I just waved my hands over the magic sensor... but where was it? I felt like a mime as I ran my hands around the front, sides, and bottom of the towel dispenser without actually touching it.
Then I saw the lever.
Oh, I was supposed to push the lever MANUALLY to dispense a towel. I'm sure there was a hidden camera in there somewhere.
This Christmas, we went to Temple Square. There was a line in the ladies' bathroom, so when I got done with the automatic flush toilet that was reluctant to flush, I wondered if any of the waiting ladies were desperate. I quickly pushed a button on the toilet that I thought might flush it, but it turned out to be the sensor. So, putting modesty aside, I pushed out of the door, shrugged, and said, "It's supposed to flush automatically, but it's not doing its job."
Then I hurried to the sink and stuck my hands beneath the faucet. No water came out. In a hurry to get away before the lady who'd gone into my un-flushed stall came out, I moved my hands up and down, touching the faucet on each upsweep. Well, that's when the water came gushing out, spraying out from the pressure of my hands like a hose all over the mirror and the lady standing at the sink next to me.
"Oops!" I cried. "I'm so sorry!"
The last thing I heard as I fled was laughter, followed by the blessed words, "That's okay."