Well, it’s been another long day, and it’s time for another post. Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, so they say. Consistency is never something I’ve been burdened with. Just ask my sweet wife. Consistency is something I should strive for, but I just can’t seem to do it on a daily basis. I’m too easily dis…oh look, a chicken.
I’m fast approaching my 45th birthday on September 6th. My wife likes to remind me that I look every one of my 45 years. I like to remind her that she’s older than I am. She retorts, “yes, but you look older than I do.” Gotta love her! I’m starting to feel my 45 years, too, which just sucks. I used to be able to tell myself that I was young at heart, but now I’m on fiber once or twice a week, I make odd sounds when I get up from the couch, and I have more hair in my ears and up my nose than I have on my head. Getting old is crap. And I have the usual ribs from my kids to look forward to. I will likely be awakened to the wonderful song by They Might Be Giants, “Older.” Have you heard this one? Great little song. “You’re older than you’ve ever been / And now you’re even older / And now you’re even older / And now you’re even older / You’re older than you’ve ever been / And now you’re even older / And now you’re older still.” Great song. They also like to play “The Way I Am” by Ingrid Michaelson for the line “I’d buy you Rogaine / When you start losing all your hair.” We were riding in the car one day and this song was playing. I said, ”Ooh, I love this song,” just as that line played. My kids have never let me for get that. The little dears!
Someday someone is going to come up to and say, “May I help you, sir?” and it won’t be because you’re burdened with packages, or any other of a dozen simple reasons. It will be because, and you will realize this as you look into their innocent, young face, you are old. 45 is not old. But apparently I wear my age like a neon sign. I’m in reasonably good health (considering I’m morbidly obese) and I can still cut a rug with the best of them (although I require much longer break to recover). I have all my faculties (although they may be slipping just a bit ‘round the edges) and I can still do complex algebra equations (though heaven help if my son ever goes into calculus!). Why then do I feel so damn old? Maybe it’s something that I’ve let slip. Maybe it’s that sense of fun that I had as a teenager that somehow got dropped from my pocket as I climbed out the car one day. Maybe I left in my jacket when it went through the wash and it’s crumpled in a heap in the lint trap. Thank goodness I have my kids and my amazing wife to remind me that, even though I may have lost my unbridled craziness, I still have the best thing anyone could ask for: a family that loves me regardless of my faults, regardless of my hang-ups, and regardless of the times I sit and stew about my age (which unfortunately for them is ever year around the first of September).
Quote of the day: “As a child my family's menu consisted of two choices: take it or leave it. ~Buddy Hackett”
p.s.: This is so much better than the post I deleted previously today!! WHEW!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment