A new me?

I've been feeling a bit compressed lately.  I was carrying a couple of parcels to the post office the other day when I stepped off a shallow kerb and jarred my back.  I'm at that age now when bouncing back is not an option, the shock absorbers have well and truly worn out.  After a few really uncomfortable nights trying to get some sleep I finally made an appointment to see the chiropractor.  It's a pleasure/pain thing, you know it's going to hurt but you welcome it just so you can get your shoulders out from under your chin at last!

Everything started out well but as she released the tension in one area I began to tense up in another.  Nothing to do with her technique but rather the action of releasing pressure on muscles can suddenly fill you with a dreadful need to fart!  I managed to disguise the first spasm as a need to sneeze but soon had to fess up because I was in danger of exploding.  "oh yes" she says, "it's a common side effect, just let it go and I'll open the window!"

WHAT?   NOOOOOOOO.......NEVER!!!

I'm not saying there haven't been moments when a wheeze of methane has escaped my person but to put on a wanton orchestration in front of an audience is certainly not one of the twenty things I wish to do before I die!  I simply did what all 'Ladies' should do and performed internal origami until I was sure all the bubbles had burst.

Anyway, where was I...oh yes, the chiropractor, she works wonders.  I go in like the missing link and come out a good inch taller and able to see my feet again.  Speaking of taller, a recent visit to the doctor for a check up resulted in me being 5'5" and not 5'4" as I had always been told.  I was not only taller but this meant that I was a good square further away from the morbidly obese gauge on the weight chart.  Alas my thrill was short lived when I realised that she'd measured me with my shoes still on and though they are flat she didn't know I had my in-steps in them - bugger!

How times have changed

Granted I don't get out much, my inability to drive coupled with living in the back of beyond leaves me with only a wheezey and forgetful old bus service or an exceptionally expensive taxi to bring me into the real world.  Thus I was rather shocked when sitting in Cafe Republic in Winchester last week to overhear a 'yummy mummy' order a 'babyccino and a pain o' chocolate' for an infant who couldn't even sit up unaided.  Whatever happened to Farley's rusks and some warm milk?  While I'm sitting there pretending to be all sophisticated with my decaff Americano I realise that there are infants out there who can not only pronounce Dolce & Gabbana but who know the difference between Brie and Camenbert!    My mate Jill confessed last week that even though she has used HP sauce all her life it only just recently dawned on her that the HP stands for Houses of Parliament.  "Didn't you ever wonder why they have that image on the front of the bottle" asked my husband aghast while we all laughed but inside I was thinking "yep me too!".