The Word of the Day is PEEKINS

“Did you hear that deodorant is bad for you?” Mom yelled from the living room.  I looked at Bill as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the kitchen counter putting the finishing touches on the pizza.  We have a workable partnership in pizza construction – he puts it all together and I eat as many pepperoni as I can before he’s done.

“Bad for you how?” I yelled back, refusing to leave my little stack of pepperoni before they were all eaten.

“There’s stuff in it that’ll give you cancer,” she shouted.  “It’s called peekins’ or something.”

“Peekins?” I repeated, glancing at Bill who was smiling and shaking his head.

“And, to make it worse, it’s only in ladies deodorant,” she called out.

“Parabens,” he whispered.  “And it’s found in lots of stuff, not just deodorant.”

At that point we could heard her walker moving through the living room and banging into the corner of the wall as she hung a right into the hallway.  “I’m going to the john and then I’m going check my deodorant and you better too, Patty,” she called over her shoulder.  “If that peekin stuff is in it, you’ll have to find us a new brand.”

“Oh, great!   She only shower’s once a week, if we’re lucky, and now she’s going to stop using deodorant?”  I exclaimed with a shutter.

Don’t worry,” Bill said as he placed the finished pizza in the oven.  “I’m guessing she won’t find any peekins in the ingredients, if she even remembers why she went into the bathroom in the first place.”

A few minutes later she returned from her ‘peekins’ quest.  “Did you find anything?” I said, bringing her water and wine out from the kitchen.

“Find any what?” she asked, picking up the TV guide.  “I like my new bathroom rug by the way.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I sighed.

The rug’s been there for a couple of weeks now.  It’s probably what the peekins are hiding under.


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