Time To Chuck The Bengay

Hubby and I just returned from a ten-day cruise.
Cruising seems to be what more 'mature' people do these days. I suspect it has something to do with not having to pack and unpack every time you hit a new place. That can be such a drag. Add into the mix someone comes in to straighten out your room three times a day, and makes and serves your meals.

Now you've really got something. Everything is done for you with a big smile, whether they mean it or not.






Being home the first day was a shock. What is this, I have to open my own refrigerator door and find something to cook for dinner? What do you mean I have to make my own bed? While I loved being home and cuddling with my cats, this was a big let-down.

I pondered all of this as I brushed my teeth, concentrating hard on my lust for the sybaritic lifestyle. After about twenty-seconds I noticed the toothpaste tasted funny. I picked up the tube and read the label: Bengay.

I panicked then rinsed and spit, expecting my entire mouth to tingle and burn from the ointment. It didn't. I read further on the label. Expiration date: 2011.  What had once been a soothing muscle ointment became a gelatinous nothing in only four years over it's due date.I looked at my face. Only several decades over my due date.
Time to take another cruise.