Margie.

I moved furniture yesterday for my frail, 92-year-old neighbor, Margie. Upon leaving, I hugged her goodbye. She then took my face in her trembling hands and said, "I love ya, honey." That gets me misty-eyed every single time ... can't help it. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the elderly.

Except for when the issue of Depends comes up. At that point, they're on their own.