Caved on new kicks the other day.
Same as the pair I wore in 7th grade.
Only those were high tops.
And I stitched some palm tree beach scene on the sides with colored embroidery floss.
Was told I was too old to wear these.
No way. Nada. Never. Nope. Not.
When I'm 92 I'll be hobbling around in my walker.
The spray painted baby blue walker with the ribbons on the handle-bars.
It'll be easy to pick out among the sea of walkers with the tennis ball bottoms at the nursing home.
Horn on the front.
Outta my way dirty old geezers, I'm late for Bingo.
Beep beep.
Or perhaps a blaring loud air horn so their big ol' ears can pick up on it.
Hobbling.
Faster than the average old lady.
Andele! Andele! Arriba! Arriba!
I will name my walker Speedy Gonzales.
Hobbling.
In my Converse-All-Star sneaks.