Losing my social skills along with my hormones

Losing my social skills along with my hormones

Losing My Social Skills Along With My Hormones 
Copyright 2000 by Janice A. Farringer

Hormone A said to Hormone B, let's confuse the heck out of her and see what she does?

Not fair said Hormone B, she's a good old gal. Rode hard and put up wet, but nice enough all these years.

You don't get it. We're on our way out, and you got sympathy here?


Yeah, those ovaries are shot, her cells are drying up, she can¹t remember ten minutes ago, but Boy Howdy, can she go on 
and on about five years ago. We're history in a year or two. She'll try to replace us, mind you. But as we both know, we're 

Why I was re-minted yesterday. That left ovary is ticking like a Model A.

Yeah, Model A. You know they are up to the 2001's? Besides she ain't no Model A. We'd be famous if she was. Naah, 
she's a mid-century model. Flashy, colorful, but high on maintenance. It's the chrome, don't you know.

Well. I don't think we should play tricks on her because she's old. Maybe we aren't what we used to be - peppy and sexy 
and thoughtful and kind and courteous and cheerful...

Wrong, numb head. Those are the Boy Scouts. We're talking about our old girl here. Since when was she all those things? 
It's been years. Let's see, was it after the second kid or the second husband she got all wrapped around it?

I don't remember much action after either one of those. Pity we were new back then. Could have made our mark. Could 
have been contenders!

Ah, can it. She has done okay. Raised those kids and still has the old twinkle now and again. But we are going to have to 
ease on out of here and she is going to be lost. Best we let her practice. Ha! Let¹s start racing around and giving her 

I don't race or rage any more. Hard on my legs. But I can stand right here and hold my breath and she will turn beet red and 
pop out in a sweat. Watch.

Two, three, four. Wow. She is flappin' that shirt now. How'd you do that? Don't stop I'm enjoying this breeze.

Naah, she¹s okay. Let¹s leave her alone.

You know what¹s going to happen when we leave her alone?


She'll get flashes and no relief, that's what. She'll flub up her sentences and pronounce things backwards. She'll fly off the 
handle. Why she'll even forget to mail those checks to the electric company.


Yes, and after she gets really dried out...

Uh huh.

She'll lose all her social skills. Won't know an introduction from a yawn. Won't care about nothin'. Will go down hill and 
never flirt or give a dinner party again.


She won't wear panty hose!


Shave her legs unless it's vacation week at the beach.


Yes. So let's talk about how we can ease her into this. Those synthetic 
Replacements are kind of hard to judge from here, but I heard tell they stave off the worst of it. You know, the drying up into 
a prune part with the brittle bones snappin'.

Snapping? Like that!

Yeah. You know she should exercise so it won't hurt so much when they go, but she is already getting hard arteries. Makes 
her stubborn. Why she used to be so placid and pliant. Remember her pretty blond hair? Well, brother, that's history. White 
under there. Vincent, the hairdresser, is a darlin' but that stuff he uses is too brassy.

Yeah, she looks like Lucille Ball. So what will she do without us?

A prune, my man. A disagreeable prune.

Are you sure?

Yeah. Inevitable. A shame really. And she'll never even remember how it used to be. Let's go before she wrecks the car and takes us with her. I'm outta here. You?


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