Little Old Ladies

Public bathrooms are a great place for molding character.  Take yesterday for example.  While I washed my hands and minded my own business, I couldn't help but overhear two little old ladies- each in their own stalls- publicly airing theirs. Within the short span of time it took me to scrub my hands clean and dry them, I heard more about their most private bodily functions than I would share even with my own doctor.  Using colorful and descriptive speech, they complained about how often they emptied their bladders, how useless their fiber supplements were, why toilet paper couldn't be softer...  As they exited their stalls, still griping to each other about their excretory systems and oblivious to my presence, their conversation made me think. When I am old, what will consume my conversations?  Right now I talk about things that I am passionate about- my faith, my family, my teaching, the power of words... But what will I be passionate about when I'm old?  I hope it's something more than my regularity...