Now hear this...

I stayed up last night enjoying Golden Girls re-runs and a big glass of milk.Now if that doesn't spell out premature grandma, I don't know what does.Okay, so I didn't have the glass of milk but I did watch the girls. I know you're wondering why I was up so late on a work night, well there's a bluebird on my shoulder my friends. Our friendly state government decided that the gas prices were just too darn high for us to ride around anymore, so here I am enjoying an extra long Labor day weekend. (cheerleader sprinkles)

So I'm enjoying lazy mornings, lazy afternoons, and lazy nights...it can't get much better than this. With all this free time, I've started thinking about when my nieces and nephews will ask to see what I looked like before I became premature grandma. This is what I will tell them.

Well, in those days, girls were different. We had stunning peaches and cream complexions, beautiful curls in our hair, small but striking features, mesmerizing eyes, chiseled cheekbones, pouty lips, tiny waist lines. We had class, charm, and wonderful personalities.

I look at photographs of my grandmother (known as "MaMa") and she's just gorgeous, like a silver screen actress. I only hope that the nieces and nephews will think the same about me.

I didn't have Carol Lombard's cheekbones, or Ginger Roger's legs...or Vivien Leigh's waistline for that matter, but I still felt pretty. We were all knockouts...and my best friend could still pass for a silver screen beauty (you know who you are you blonde bombshell with the sniffles!!!)

some enchanted evening

you may see a stranger

across a crowded room

and somehow you know

you know even then

that somewhere you'll see him

again and again