Stuff: You Can’t Take It With You

Your kids wouldn’t be caught dead with it.

Image by M. H. from Pixabay

I’ve arrived in my seventies with SO MUCH baggage.

Do you want a Suzanne Somers’ ThighMaster? You’re in luck. This contraption hasn’t been compressed by my quivering thighs since circa 1990, but it regularly jams up my closet door. It’s yours for the taking — and for the quaking.