It’s tough to be an old broad.

I get it.  I was born in 1970. My mother calls me “middle-aged.”

For my Betty White, yesterday was not pretty.

She’s old. She’s deaf. She’s toothless.

I’m pretty sure she has dementia.

Now, she’s fat, too.

Well, we should say “solidly fluffy.”

Yesterday, she had a poop problem.

Because she is small, baths are easy . . . for me.

Betty White is not a fan.

Since she was wet and I could see her pink skin, I trimmed her bangs.

She hates baths.

She hates a lot of things.

But, now she is fresh, fluffed and folded.