For this sixty-something woman, there are two “don’ts” that currently dominate my life. The first is “Don’t make that noise.” See, here’s my theory: When you first start emitting those little grunts, groans, and sighs when you get out of a car or move from one position to another or stand up from a chair—don’t get smart, twenty-somethings; someday you’ll understand—when you first start making those noises, you can hear them. Then as the years go by and the hearing goes the way of skin and gravity and mental acuity (as in down, bottoming out, splat), you’re making those noises much more often and YOU CAN’T HEAR THEM. That’s dangerous. Any time you’re making noises that you can’t hear? Well, you get my point. Therefore, the time to stop that from ever happening is to get control of those grunts and groans NOW. While you can still hear them, people! So anytime I forget and I’m climbing up into the car (it’s a tall car and I’m short; not my fault!) or lifting my carry-on bag (not that it’s heavy, since I tend to pack light, a-hem) or walk through a doorway (that can be tricky!) and I make a noise….I immediately scold myself and state, “Don’t make that noise!” I’m getting it under control, though. Any day now…
Don’t Number Two: This oft-repeated command is “Don’t tell the kids.” Whenever I forget anything, when I do something dumb, when whatever invokes an eye-rolling response, my immediate panicky comeback is, “Don’t tell the kids!” And why is that? you ask. Because, your kids decide which nursing home you go to, right? And hopefully that’s far off in the future, agreed? But if they see too much scary/dimwitted/she’s lost her marbles behavior already? We’re toast. Keep those stories close to your vest, mom and dad. I don’t care if it was hilarious. Like the time that unmentioned-woman (no, it wasn’t me) got on the elevator—even though she was already on the floor where her room was—and was chatting away and laughing and pressed Level One, and the other people on the elevator were laughing at her because she hadn’t realized they were on their way up to Level Two and so she (of course it wasn’t me!) looked just a little foolish riding up and down in the elevator for no reason other than she’d done something pretty stupid (I’M TELLING YOU IT WASN’T ME). But then—how ironic was this?—as she exited the elevator, she blurted out to those left behind, “Don’t tell the kids!”
Honestly. Half the time I can’t remember what I did yesterday anyway! Just don’t tell the kids.