No, I’m talking knee replacements here. I’m talking about how long a body part can stand doing its job before revolting.
Let’s take my butt. Last week I had dinner with two different groups of friends. When sitting at a restaurant, I have a 90 minute butt with an absolute max of 2 hours. That means I can sit in a chair for 90 minutes before I start ritual rutching.
You know what ritual rutching is. First it’s side to side. Then it’s sitting up and sliding down (a lot like you slide in a dentist’s office or a gynecologist who is coming towards you with a medieval tool of torture that goes into your hoohoo).
My butt has enough padding but something in there goes numb. Sometimes it gets prickly. At that point all I can think of is my numb or prickly butt and I am no longer my usual enchanting self.
My butt isn’t the only part with an expiration time on it. Unless talking about cats (which I can do endlessly), my mind has a short attention span. If you’re topic goes beyond 20 minutes (and I’m being kind here), I’m making tomorrow’s shopping list. Or composing my next blog post and it’s probably about you.
I have old feet. Someone stole my young ones and replaced them with lumpy feet that hurt. What’s too long for feet? It depends on whether I’m looking at shoes or cats (my feet are more patient) or doing laundry or grocery shopping (less patient).
If anyone sees a pair of young beautiful feet capable of wearing high heels, please let me know. They are mine!
My hands have always been wonderful. No arthritis with lumpy knuckles. Recently I notice that whoever took my feet also took my hands. I still don’t have lumpy knuckles but I don’t have the nice fat pads underneath that smooth out wrinkles. I also have more freckles. (Some people call them liver spots. I believe they are youthful freckles.)
Fortunately my hands work just fine. No sign of carpal tunnel. Just a stiff joint where I had thumb surgery last year.
My ears are good for six feet. After that you start to fade. If you are farther than ten feet I am reading your lips and making up words that you may or may not be saying. If I stop talking to you, consider that what I “heard” was rude (although it may not have been what you said). Communication is tricky, isn’t it?
Next time you are around me remember it’s 90 minutes for the butt, 20 minutes for my brain, 20 minutes for my feet, stand within six feet of me and for God’s sakes, don’t look at my hands.
I am not high maintenance. Really!