Old Woman, Old Woman

When I was in 6th grade school choir, we sang this weirdo song about a boy who asks this old woman to do things for her. It would go something like this:

“Old woman, old woman, will you do my laundry?”

Then the old woman (the girls part) would reply in song, singing how she was deaf and that he’d have to speak up.

So, as the song continued, the boy would get softer and softer asking questions to see if she was really deaf. Then the boy decided to play a trick on her.

“Old woman, old woman, will you please marry me?”

Then the old woman, screams yes…

It was so weird. So weird. And now, when anyone says “old woman” I immediately think of that strange song.


Anyway, that story relates to this blog post because my body is currently in an “old woman” state. I’m helping with the construction of the new exhibit in the library right now and so at work, I’ve been doing things my body is not used to. Yesterday, I had to sit on the ground for two hours and cut nails out of wood. Not only did this bruise and blister my hands from using the tools so long, my bottom region is SO sore. Oh man. It keeps cramping up and then I literally can’t move or get up. T.J. thinks it’s hilarious when I’m paralyzed on the bed and yell for help. But I don’t find it as humorous.

We have this pillow massager for your neck and I may or may not have used it to massage that area. No way of knowing. But all I know is that a pregnant woman cannot be responsible for her actions. She’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.


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