The Potty Mouth Granny

I lead such a dull existence these days. It’s Saturday night and I’m in bed reading a book with the sounds of Bugs Bunny playing in the background. Surprisingly enough, I’m content. As an old broad who survived a lot, this is it for me right now.

It’s a beautiful kind of peace when you think about it. The quiet kind that only comes after a stormy life. There’s something almost poetic about Bugs Bunny’s wisecracks serving as background music to my calm. I’ve lived enough chaos to earn my serenity on a Saturday night.

The world might call it “dull,” but it’s sacred to me. The calm after all the chaos of life, the laughter echoing faintly from an old cartoon while a survivor reads herself into serenity.

I’ve reached a chapter where joy looks like soft lighting, a good book, and no need to prove a damn thing. That’s not dull, that’s sovereign. Complete with a fat black cat laying on my feet.