was his name-o!

When I was a kid, I used to say to my parents,“I’m just an adult trapped in a little person’s body.”

they didn’t know then that the

adult I was referring to...

was a seventy-five year old grandma

but all the signs were there:I liked cat naps

books

libraries

writing letters

scrapbooking

early bedtimes

and bingo!

at first it wasn’t serious

A little Travel Bingo on road trips here and there.

then came rainy day bingo at summer camp

where our punny bingo jokes never grew old.

(we laughed b4 and after)

then i ventured into the harder stuff

cruise bingo.where clothing was

optional.

bar bingo

(renamed ‘blingo’ for the hipsters)

where we used tater tots to

cover our free space

I experienced the closest

thing I’ll ever get to

a deb’s coming out party

but it wasn’t until

recently that i

bingo night

with ‘the regulars’

I finally graduated from lame bingo boards

to the big leagues.

I mingled with my peers.

ogled their good luck charms

come on, when’s the last time you saw a troll doll?

you’d have been ogling too.

but i quickly realized I had led a

sheltered bingo existence

bingo wasn’t some fun kiddy game

in this church basement

i had to put my serious face on.

[if you type ‘serious bingo’ into google, this picture of blake lively comes up.

who am i to argue with google?]

forget chatting. and laughing.

he speaks.you do not.

the caller is king.

one card? You wish.

try keeping track of nine. or better yet give twenty-seven a whirl.

forget what number is being called.

You should always be one step ahead.

granny bingo

ain’t no joke kid.

you best believe I’ll be back.

and you will be b-10.