If you think I’m being crude–think again. SOB in this case stands for Spunky Old Broad. That’s right, it’s Spunky Old Broad day and February is also considered SOB month. Do you know a Spunky Old Broad who needs to know it’s SOB Day?
SOB month celebrates all women over 50, who believe it is never too late to live your dream, be who you want to be, and create and do whatever you want to do.Beverly Beurmann-King
My mother was one. I wrote about her last week and some of the funny things she did. But when I heard the phrase SOB–I immediately thought of her and her friends.
Not only did they get together every Wednesday afternoon to play cards but at one point they were going to a Monday night card game at a biker bar. Why there and not to the local senior center? They tried the senior center but found the other players to be a little too proper and too quiet. In other words–boring!
At the bar, they could tell stories, dirty jokes, and laugh out loud. They loved to laugh. Besides, the bikers played for money and those Spunky Old Broads loved to take their money. (Or bring them chicken soup if they were sick.)
Card time with her gang of friends was sacred. She made sure her family was aware that we didn’t call during the time. And if anyone else called, she quickly got them off the phone. For her, sacred time was also watching the Boston Red Sox or UConn women’s basketball team.
My brother and I found out how much when we both ended up visiting her one evening. We were chatting and laughing right up until 7 pm. At 7 pm she thanked us for coming over, turned on the TV to watch the Red Sox, and asked us to lock the door when we left. We laughed our way out of the house.
My mother also didn’t let life’s unexpected moments interfere with card time. Once, while setting the table for her friends (dessert and coffee came before cards,) she turned around too quickly and fell on the floor. She couldn’t get up but was able to get the phone from the nearby cabinet by pulling it down from the cord. She called my sister, who came over but couldn’t help her get up.
Even though my mother hated the idea, they needed to call emergency services to get her off the floor. A couple of burly firemen/paramedics came in and helped her up to a chair, checked her over, and then brought in a gurney.
That’s when her SOB kicked in and she told them to leave. The paramedics tried to insist that she go to the hospital to get checked out to find out why she fell. But they were no match for her. She told them she knew why, and that they needed to leave because she had company coming and didn’t want to scare her friends by having them see a fire truck in front of her house.
She then got up and continued doing what she was doing before she fell. The paramedics had no choice but to leave.
I’d love to hear your SOB stories.