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    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?
    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?
    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?
    Ebook137 pages2 hours

    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?

    By Martha Bolton

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    Do you know a friend or have a spouse who's getting a little older and could use some ribs tickling? Could you use a perspective-altering, shot-in-the-arm about how to look at the minor aches and pains of going over the hill? For some, getting older is definitely not a laughing matter. For Martha Bolton, however, there's one lesson she's learned that makes aging easier--laughter and longevity go hand-in-hand!



    Like other top Christian humorists Barbara Johnson and Patsy Clairmont, Bolton's humor is based in a faith that teaches while it makes you laugh. In Didn't My Skin Used to Fit, the message is that life after forty can be as much fun (even more so) than life before forty. When you can't stop the crow's-feet from walking over your face, it's time to laugh about it.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBaker Publishing Group
    Release dateJun 1, 2000
    ISBN9781441211088
    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?
    Author

    Martha Bolton

    Emmy-nominated and Dove-nominated writer Martha Bolton is also the author of over eighty books of inspiration and humor. She wrote the libretto for The Confession Musical, based on Beverly Lewis' popular Amish trilogy, as well as the libretto for Half-Stitched, the Musical, based on Wanda Brumstetter's newest Amish romance. Martha was a staff writer for Bob Hope for over fifteen years, writing humor to entertain the public and presidents alike. 

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    Reviews for Didn't My Skin Used to Fit?

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    • 5/5
      "Yes it's true. There is no fountain of youth - no pool of water that will grant us sharper memories or tighter skin." Thus begins Martha Bolton's laughable, lovable little book on life after forty. Those of us that are there can easily see something of ourselves in most any chapter of this book...those under 40... well you'll know what to expect sooner than you think.

      Such chapters as "Gravy is Not A Food Group", "And He Huffed and He Puffed", "Thanks for The Memory..Loss", and "A Hairy Experience", will keep you laughing and turning the pages and realizing that this woman just might know what she's talking about. "You know you're getting old when "getting in the grove" means your walker is stuck in a crack in the sidewalk."

      5 stars for a dlightful 185 pages of fun.
    • 4/5
      Fun collection of short musings on the foibles of getting older.

    Book preview

    Didn't My Skin Used to Fit? - Martha Bolton

    DIDN'T MY

    SKIN USED

    TO FIT?

    Books by Martha Bolton

    FROM BETHANY HOUSE PUBLISHERS

    Didn’t My Skin Used to Fit?

    I Think, Therefore I Have a Headache!

    Cooking With Hot Flashes

    Growing Your Own Turtleneck

    It’s Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens

    (with Phil Callaway)

    Your Best Nap Now

    MARTHA BOLTON

    DIDN'T MY

    SKIN USED

    TO FIT?

    Didn’t My Skin Used to Fit?

    Copyright © 2000

    Martha Bolton

    Cover illustration by Daniel Vasconsellos

    Cover design by Sheryl Thornberg

    Scripture quotations identified NIV are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. The ‘‘NIV’’ and ‘‘New International Version’’ trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by International Bible Society. Use of either trademark requires the permission of International Bible Society.

    Scripture quotations identified KJV are from the King James Version of the Bible.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

    Published by Bethany House Publishers

    11400 Hampshire Avenue South

    Minneapolis, Minnesota 55438

    Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

    Ebook edition created 2010

    Ebook corrections 04.15.2016 (VBN)

    ISBN 978-1-4412-1108-8

    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

    Bolton, Martha, 1951–

         Didn’t my skin used to fit? : living, laughing, loving life after forty! / by Martha Bolton.

              p.     cm.

         ISBN 0-7642-2184-1

         1. Aging—Humor. 2. Middle age—Humor. I. Title.

    PN6231.A43 B65       2000

    814'.54—dc21                                                                                                                        00–008485

    CIP

    To Dr. Robert Rood,

    my doctor and friend,

    for keeping me together

    all these years.

    MARTHA BOLTON is a full-time comedy writer and the author of over fifty books. She was a staff writer for Bob Hope for fifteen years along with writing for Phyllis Diller, Wayne Newton’s USO show, Ann Jillian, Mark Lowry, Jeff Allen, and many others. Her material has appeared in Reader’s Digest, Chicken Soup for the Soul books, and Brio magazine, and she has received four Angel awards and both an Emmy nomination and a Dove Award nomination. Martha and her husband live in Tennessee.

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    A special thanks . . .

    To my husband, Russ, whom I met when I was fifteen years old and married when I was eighteen . . . back when my skin used to fit.

    To my family: Russ II, Matt, Tony, Nicole, Crystal, and Kiana, who try their best to keep me dressing young and in style. (Now, where did I put those bell-bottoms?)

    To my friends Linda Aleahmad and Mary Scott, for never letting a birthday pass without getting our annual dose of laughs. Despite what the rest of our bodies are doing, I’m glad none of us has developed a wrinkle in our sense of humor.

    To the memory of my father and mother, Lonnie and Eunice, who taught me how to find the humor in all circumstances . . . even crow’s-feet.

    To my ‘‘adopted’’ mother, Diantha Ain, whose energy and youthful appearance continue to defy the aging process. What’s your secret, Di?

    To my editor, Steve Laube, who didn’t send even one threatening e-mail while waiting for me to finish this project. (Changing my address four times might have had something to do with that.)

    And finally, to all my friends and relatives, who’ve made this life the wonderful journey it is, I thank you from the bottom of my murmuring heart.

    CONTENTS

    1. Hangin’ Loose

    2. Yo Quiero No Discount

    3. Walk a Mile in My Feet

    4. And He Huffed and He Puffed

    5. Hey, Brother, Can You Spare a 401K?

    6. Out of Style

    7. Changing With the Times

    8. A Handout

    9. Tan Your Hide

    10. Infomercial Paradise

    11. Making Memories, Not Regrets

    12. Gravy Is Not a Food Group

    13. I’ve Only Got Eyelids for You

    14. Death Doesn’t Become Us

    15. Are We Having Fun Yet?

    16. Thanks for the Memory . . . Loss

    17. You Don’t Bring Me Flowers Anymore

    18. Regrets

    19. The Gravity of the Situation

    20. All Grown Up

    21. A Hairy Experience

    22. A Cut Above

    23. Old Friends

    24. Blisters, Sweat, and Tears

    25. You’re So Vein

    26. Where’s Your Drive?

    27. Beside Myself

    28. Happy Birthday to Me

    29. The Good Ol’ Days

    30. Extra! Extra!

    31. Aka Doughgirl

    32. Impatiently Ever After

    33. Life of the Party

    34. Is There a Doctor in the House?

    35. It’s All in the Attitude

    36. I’m My Own Grandma

    37. When You’ve Got It, You’ve Got It

    38. Plenty to Smile About

    39. Seasons

    40. The Search

    41. Scars

    42. Hold Your Tongue

    43. Running Hot and Cold

    44. That’s Entertainment?

    45. Made to Last

    46. What’d You Say?

    47. Who Unplugged the Fountain of Youth?

    48. Evading the Obvious

    49. And Another Thing

    50. Priorities

    51. The Ride

    1

    Hangin’ Loose

    I began noticing it several years ago. The skin I had worn for most—no, make that all—of my life suddenly didn’t fit anymore. It used to fit. Rather snugly, as a matter of fact. It was tight around the eyes and mouth. There wasn’t any extra under my chin or any hanging down from the sides of my cheeks. There was just enough to make one pass around my entire body. One trip was all that was required, and the exact amount was provided to do the job. Not too much, not too little. It was a perfect fit.

    It even stretched. If I gained a pound or two, or twenty, my skin easily expanded to accommodate the increased territory. It wasn’t judgmental. It didn’t condemn me for that third trip to the food bar. It never tried to knock the brownie out of my hands or shame me into putting back that super-sized scoop of banana pudding. It simply stretched and accommodated. It met the challenge of whatever was required and never once complained.

    If I lost weight, my skin was equally accommodating. It would easily return to its original size as though nothing had ever happened. I could gain weight or lose to my heart’s content, or discontent, and it would adjust, snapping right back into place when the time was right.

    Well, it doesn’t snap back anymore. In fact, it doesn’t do much of anything except hang there, looser in some places than in others. Like under my chin. That’s where a lot of it seems to gather and hang. I’m not very happy about that. It’s disconcerting when people stare at my neck and I know they’re thinking about Thanksgiving.

    Frankly, I think someone should come up with a choker necklace that could be worn just below the chin and would keep all that extra skin tucked neatly in place so it doesn’t hang down like loosened upholstery under an antique chair. Whoever designs the first necklace like that will make a fortune.

    Little folds of flesh have started to gather around my eyes, too—wrinkles that won’t minimize no matter how much wrinkle minimizer I apply. They call it ‘‘crow’s-feet,’’ but my face doesn’t have just a few of them. It has a whole chorus-line thing going on! Every time I squint, my skin seems to fanfold itself into a neat little stack, like pulled taffy, right beside my eyes. It’s orderly, but not very attractive. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want tidy little stacks of pulled taffy next to my eyes. I’d much rather go back to the days when crow’s-feet were something you only worried about in an Alfred Hitchcock film.

    For some reason, my upper arms have fallen to this extra-skin curse, as well. Don’t ask me why, because I haven’t a clue. What I do have, though, is a nice swag look every time I raise a hand. I’ve measured, and there is a good two inches of loose skin under each arm. If a strong wind kicks up, I could be flapping for hours.

    I don’t think I’d ever actually become airborne, but given the right aerodynamic circumstances, I wouldn’t bet against it. That’s the reason I wear long sleeves most of

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