In bean years I’m in my 80s. Beans age so slow by the sun.

My teeth, the ones left, aren’t good. My hips are stiff when I jump to the chair. I like to curl into the heat of the back of beans as they sleep, even if they do spike my food with medicine and abduct me to the v-e-t to needle me with liquid. I think they are trying to make me a camel.

But still, warm lap in warm sun and a good stroking even when I fart, helps.