A Letter From My Great Aunt Geraldine

Below is a letter I found from my Great Aunt Geraldine to her former best friend/current husband’s ex-wife, June. For context, Geraldine looks something like this: 

giphy.gif

 I don’t really know how else to preface this, so here.  Have a go at it: 


Dearest June,

Hank did it again– he wet the bed.

God I hate getting old.  It ruins everything you love.  That’s Lesson #1 for today. Age Ruins Love.

He did it the first time a year or so back.  It was out of fear, I know it was.  Men always piss themselves out of fear.  Have you ever heard of a woman wetting herself in fear?  From laughter, yes, honestly a good giggle really gets me flowin’.  It’s also well known that you shouldn’t ever ask a woman of my age to jump rope in fear of opening you’ll open the flood gates. That’s a sure-fire way to “Release The Kraken,” if you will. But never out of fear.

Let’s call this Lesson #2.

Bad dreams.  That what ails Hankt.  He has always been plagued by them, at least since I have known him.  I think it’s you, June. You keep scaring his bladder soft.  He’s still too much of a coward to admit what he did: he left you for me.  Well, he’ll admit that, but not why.

But I’ll tell ya:

It’s because of my rack, June. You have never been gifted in the chest region, my dear.  You have those pink areola’s too. God knows men hate a pink teet. Small breasts, sure, those suck, but you were hit with the double curse.  I wasn’t.  But now Hank is cursed.

He squirts every time he thinks about you.

Picture this: Our hallway — You know, the one with the maroon floral wallpaper and the pictures of my old terrier, Roscoe? Well, he’s walking down that one.  Toward our room.  He’s probably coming home from physical therapy (a story for another time) and all he wants to do go to our bedroom and find me there, as any sane man would.   But what does he see when he opens the bedroom door?

You… and your pink tits. 

How would you feel if you saw that in a dream?

… well, I guess, you see that in the mirror every day.  I would turn the other way or cover up when you pass reflective surfaces, June.  Let’s make that lesson #3.  I’ll throw that one in there for free just because we’re old pals.

But that’s why Hank pissed himself the first time. He didn’t have to say a think or tell me why– I just knew it.

The rest of the incidents are age related.  Remember what I said about age earlier? Time really does have a sense of humor.

The truth is, Junie, age isn’t kind even if you are.  Let me be the example.  I don’t need support anymore. No BRA. That’s right.  A simple elastic waisted skirt will do.  I just tuck the girls in and and go– old age truly does ruin the best things in life.

Let lesson #1 be the most important one you learn from me today.

With Love,

Geraldine

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