What is a monkeybox?

When I was a little girl, we had a pet monkey named Amanda. My Dad worked in the produce business, so each night he brought home that days culls in a big box - spotty cucumbers, pithy apples, limp celery, moldy oranges and the like. We called it a monkeybox. It was really just trash, but my Mom would take each piece of fruit and trim it, pare it and cut it up to make a beautiful fruit platter for Amanda. Even though it was deemed trash by one, it still had life left in it and was good for the purpose we needed it. That's how I live my life - thrifting, yard saling, looking for another's trash to be my treasure.

Friday, February 26, 2010

How Shara Got Her Groove Back

Self esteem has never been one of my vices.  I have pretty low opinion of myself.  I know I'm not beautiful or anything like that.  I never thought a "boy" would like me.  I never thought I would get married.  I never had much experience dating.  I was always the "friend", never the "girlfriend".  I've never had grand illusions that I was anything outside of quite ordinary.  Compliments have never been thrown at me by The Breadman.  In fact, when he saw me in my wedding dress, his exact words were, "Huh".  (I should have run right then!)

Having been married for 19 years and having a 14 year old son, I'm pretty much a house frou.  I don't expect any man to give me a second look.  I don't expect any attention.  I just go about my business and that's that.

But, that all changed yesterday.

At the Nursing Home.

You see, there are a bunch of young men there remodeling the bathrooms and painting the hallways.  They have three or four elderly people in their wheelchairs sitting thisclose watching their every move.  Asking in depth questions like, "Did you eat yet?" Followed immediately by "I gotta pee".  As they move their painting supplies down three feet, they have to reposition all the wheelchairs out of the way so they can do their work.  They sigh as they look at all the elderly faces in the dayroom  - eyes transfixed on "Wizards of Waverly Place". 

Enter me.

Me with no self esteem.

The guys rush to the door to open it for me. 

I am greeted with a "How YOU doin'?" that would make Joey Tribbiani proud. 

They offer to help me carry things in.  They give me big toothy smiles every time I step into the hallway.

I am suddenly overcome with a realization.

I am a hot chick.

In the old folks home anyway.

I plan on spending a lot of time there.

How YOU doin'?


  1. Ha! Funny post! Sorta the same thing happened to me yesterday at the thrift store. It's run by a bunch of little old ladies. So I guess being the youngest gal in the store made me look pretty good to a couple of 20-ish boys. Made my day! I may not look gorgeous on the outside, but on the inside I am an incredibly hot 25 year old floozy!

  2. Did you tell the breadman? Or is this a "dirty" little secret that will make YOU smile and make breadman wonder what you are up too?

  3. I love my old men friends! Most of them I met at auctions, but they want me to sit next to them, help me load my car, cut up with me, but would never think about crossing the line. Enjoy these old men! And remember, the thrill goes both ways!

    And by the way, I've seen your picture. Your definitely cute! Beats the heck out of being a great beauty. That fades! Cute stays!

  4. Kinda like when I was in the rehab center after my car accident... EVERYONE adored me... I was the only one that had a chance of a positive 'escape', so they didn't mind wiping the drool from the chin of a 30 year old!! Hey, some days you have to take what you can get!! 8-)

  5. LOL LOL This is great! I can totally relate to your self image....same here, yearbooks full of guys writing "you are a great friend, thanks for listening" crap! But I did marry a wonderful handsome guy...years ago he married a cute little gal. Don't know what happened to either of them! LOL Thanks for this post! I have to find a nursing home to visit! :)

  6. Ah, you don't have anything on me...I'm the No Self Esteem Queen!

    But you are so right, there is nothing more satisfying then walking into a room full of old men. They REALLY appreciate you!! And they're fun to talk to.

    PS: At least you're married...*sob*

  7. First, you always make me laugh. But you know that.

    Second, I kind of hate to hear stuff like that. You are fabulous! Be fabulous, think fabulous, breathe fabulous. You are.

  8. A similar thing happened to me the first day we checked my mother-in-law into an assisted living facility. I sat with her in the dining room and soon, two 'younger' male residents came over to ME to introduce themselves!

    Just call me 'Geezer Babe'!

  9. I was wondering around blogland and I found your blog. I had such a good laugh... you are so funny. Love your blog. I love to junk also, guess I should come out of hiding, huh? By the way, saw your pic, and you are beautiful! Hugs, Linda

  10. Sweet, sweet story Shara.
    I have a sorta similar one...
    I was attending Beauty School back in 1975. I wasn't feeling too good about myself... a farm girl living on my own in the 'big' city... just out of high school.
    Well every week this elderly lady (who was hard of hearing) came into the school for a wash & style and I would always do her hair. And the whole time she would yell REAL LOUD "YOU ARE AS CUTE AS A BUG!!!"
    And I am not kidding you, I started believing her and it always made me feel so good... but also embarrassing that everyone heard her say that.
    God bless the elderly :)


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