When Miss Crankypants was little, her parents tried to make her eat liver. They said it was good for her, and would prevent “iron poor blood,” whatever that is. Miss CP remained steadfast, though, and would NOT open her mouth to anything remotely like liver–onions notwithstanding. But nowadays, she’s being haunted by the ghosts of livers past.
Now before you pass judgment, Miss Cranky will have you know that even her Cats reject liver as dinner fare. And doesn’t it qualify as “Mystery Meat?” Cooked, liver looks like the sole off somebody’s shoe. And raw liver? Miss Crankypants shudders to think of it.
She also demands to know: who named these confounded spots on the backs of her hands after the worst entree in the world?
After all, they could be called “chocolate chip cookie” spots. Miss CP would be OK with gravy spots, or how about Raisinette spots? Puhlease! Don’t condemn poor Miss Crankypants to golden years devoted to liver!
Sadly, most senior living places serve liver at least once a week. EEEWW! Old geezers probably do have iron poor blood by this time, although you’d think with modern technology, somebody would invent a less painful way of getting that iron up to snuff. It’s bad enough we oldsters must bear the scar of shame on the tops of our veiny hands–liver spots that are threatening to take over New York City.
Miss Cranky’s grandma used to rub lemons on her hands to keep these liver buggers under control. Alas, it only succeeded in making the spots band together and declare war on Grandma’s face! Yes, liver spots don’t care who they disfigure. Their mission is to mark everybody over 60 so younger folks will not mistake us for teenagers.
But the plan is backfiring: everywhere Miss CP goes, she spots another fellow spottee. In a crowded room, she can pick out the ones on Golden Pond just by examining the backs of their hands. We must organize, all you liver bespotted geezers. If you hated liver as a kid, it’s out to get revenge. And the results aren’t pretty. Rub all the lemons you want, oldies but goodies. Our liver spots are here to stay.
Aha moment! Now I understand the reason behind the dreaded liver spots. If not marked in such a manner, younger folks would mistake us for teenagers. That makes perfect sense to me. I do sort of look like a teenager. Well, I have arms and legs and all my body features are intact. But wait, what about the wrinkles and chin waddle? What about gravity tugging downward certain body parts which used to be perky? Hmm.
This requires a bit more pondering, Miz Cranky. I don’t think it likely that youngsters will mistake me for one of their own.
And I actually like liver. If someone else prepares it well with lots of onions.
An odd duck, indeed, Catherine. Well, SOMEbody has to eat the stuff. And you look exactly like you found the Fountain of Youth.
🙂 Miz CP aka Linda
Miz CP,
I was given “Carter’s Little Liver Pills” when I was nine to build up my blood loss from trying to rescue a cat from under the basement ledge ~ I don’t know what happened to the cat, but I cut my artery vein trying to see through the window in that dark narrow space. I could hear the meow. Back to Carter’s, they were little triangular pills with a green outer coating. I actually liked them. Wonder if they were doing any good “to build my blood up.” Kathleen ~ Lane Hill House
Oh my, hope that hasn’t resulted in a proliferation of liver spots! A proliferation is kind of like a MOB of kangaroos or a MURDER of crows. 🙂 Miz CP aka Linda
ha ha ~ so that’s where they came from! When I was younger, I had some removed and they left really white spots ~ I should have waited. All together having a meeting!
It’s so unfair! But somehow, we press on. Keep smiling, Miz CP aka Linda