MAGICAL

Yesterday I met up with my four oldest gal pals from 1st grade on--Mary, Maggie, Nancy Sue, and Cheryl. We got together at the lovely home of another 63-year-old classmate, Ron, who is off on some South American expedition.  He's divorced, so what does he care that a quintet of foxy chicks from his past show up at his doorstep. Right? After a few pics taken by Cheryl's husband, under the watchful eyes of a stuffed gnu glaring from a wall nearby, we young ladies took off for lunch and a movie.


And what better flick for five glamorous Social Security recipients to see but the new male stripper extravaganza, Magic Mike! Notice in the movie poster that there are five hunks ready to take on each of us.  And, of course, I get Channing Tatum since we're both in the middle of our respective pictures.  That's only fair.

Now, these hot, young studs looked mighty attractive and buff in their eye-popping dance costumes.  But we gals agreed that if our own significant others would try to impress us by wearing such revealing outfits, we would likely collapse into fits of laughter. This kind of exposure only looks magical on someone with about an ounce of body fat.


And our own bodies?  Well, they've undergone a few changes, too, since the days of running wild on the playground at Mound School just a few years back.  See if you can pick us out of this Brownie Scout troop picture when we were 10 years old.  Presto-change-o!  Where has the time gone?