Senseless dream sarcasm : Geriatric fairy tales

Asleep at 6:30pm, awake at 10:00pm. 

I never should have had that cherry chocolate chip ice cream, followed by the salad from hell.

If that wasn’t bad enough…

…yes, another one of “those” dreams.

The prince said, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair.”

“Where’s your wife, Cinderella?”

“Who?”

“Oh. You’re not Prince Charming, you’re Prince Dementia, dumb as a rock and twice as forgetful.”

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel…”

“Can it, Romeo.  I already let my hair down for you. Climb like hell.”

“Likehell?  Is that my name?”  the prince asked.

“Hurry it up!  I’ve tried to pour frozen molasses that was faster than you.”

Heaving from exertion, the prince said, “I made it!”

“Thanks to the magic wheelchair that lifted you through my window,” Rapunzel snorted at him.

“Oh, my beauteous love with the golden hair!”

“You’re slow, and blind,” Rapunzel said.   “I have wrinkles the size of a mountain range and grey hair the consistency of straw.”

“Is this tuna casserole day?” he asked, looking around a large room with a bed, dresser, armoire and a bookshelf the size of Montana.

“This isn’t the old princes nursing home,” Rapunzel said.  “I’m a princess, not a cook.”

“Then I will cut off your head, hideous gnome, and climb down this tower to find a place of repast.”

She pointed to her window.  “All you have to do is walk out that door.”

He hesitated at the edge, she took his sword, cut off his head, and pushed his body out the window.

“Hey!  Wicked witch!  Another one escaped the nursing home.”

Wearing her pointed hat, the wicked witch popped into view and looked at the bloody mess on the window, but it was the royal head that made her smile.

“Thank you Rapunzel.  I’ve had a craving for head cheese.”

“I know,” Rapunzel said.  “Last week, you wanted leg of man.”

As the witch disappeared with her prize, Rapunzel spotted the magic wheelchair hovering near her window.  She took the prince’s sword, cut off her hair, and escaped to the nearest old princesses nursing home.

What is the moral of this story?  In hairy situations, the smart woman knows how to get a head.