How Not to Become a Little Old Lady

We've all seen her. She's hunched forward, her blue hair is tucked neatly under a plastic rain bonnet, she's clutching expired coupons, and she's discussing her latest health problems over lunch. She's a little old lady . . . and she's coming your way at 2 m.p.h. Little old ladies have elastic waistbands on all their slacks. They save rubber bands, remember 15-cent McDonald's hamburgers, and have never seen a public rest room that was clean enough. __How Not to Become a Little Old Lady__ (the mini version) is for any woman who is proud to have escaped little old ladyhood, and it's the perfect, lighthearted gift to give women in danger of slipping into those awful little old lady tendencies. The charming illustrations from Adrienne Hartman perfectly capture the senior syndrome. Say good-bye to little old ladies who pass off their liver spots as beauty marks and say hello to this fresh and fun gift book. You can be little. You can be old. You can be a lady. But you don’t have to be a little old lady! We’ve all seen her, hunched forward, her hair tucked neatly under a plastic rain bonnet. She’s clutching expired coupons, or discussing her latest health problems over lunch. She’s a little old lady . . . and she's coming your way at 2 mph. Little old ladies have elastic waistbands on all their slacks. They save rubber bands, remember fifteen-cent McDonald’s hamburgers, and have never seen a public rest room that was clean enough. How Not to Become a Little Old Lady is for any woman who is proud to have escaped little old ladyhood—or those in danger of slipping into it. Lighthearted and affectionately funny, it also includes charming illustrations from Adrienne Hartman. We can't stop the aging process, but with the help of How Not to Become a Little Old Lady , we can at least not act older than our age. Author Mary McHugh offers up more than 100 pointers of things not to do to stave off little old ladyhood. Illustrated with the humorous line art of Adrienne Hartman, this little book reminds us not to boil our vegetables until they are gray, tell boring stories with no point to them, carry a tissue up our sleeve, or dye our own hair and think nobody can tell.