By Susan Knight
When I was a kid, I often looked at my mom’s vaccination scar
on her upper right arm and wondered why it was so big.*
“Mine’s not that big,” my little self would say as I
compared my arm to my mother’s.
A few days ago, since the weather is warming and short sleeves are more
prevalent, I happened to glance in the mirror, and what did I see out of the
corner of my eye?
“Holy cow,” my older self said as I stopped in my tracks. I did a double take in the
mirror and saw my eyes widen as I spied my mother’s vaccination scar—on my arm.
I looked at myself then at the reflection of my arm, and realized it is in the same predicament as my widened gut and expanded
butt.
“Sorry, mom,” I said as I stared at my arm. “All this time I
thought my doctor was better precisioned than yours.”
Then I remembered . . . small town life . . . we had the same doctor.
*Those of
you who are of my baby boomer generation, will know what I’m talking about.
haha! Great post, Susan. Yep! Those small pox vaccinations were not fun. I was going to say that the aging process is no fun, but after thinking about it, I've changed my mind. Growing older is a magnificnet journey, and like we heard at General Conference, I don't think I would trade the wisdom gained for returned youth. So bring on the saggy arms and crinkly smiles! hugs~
ReplyDeleteThanks for your post, Kari. I can always count on you to comment.
DeleteAnd, I was really stunned when I saw my arm :)
I am rolling. Yes I'm a baby boomer and yes I totally get this. Too funny!!!
ReplyDelete