Oh, no she didn’t. Yep, she did. I ripped the pen from the little chain it was anchored with, leaped through the sliding glass window and stabbed her in the eye, screaming the whole time, “NO! I DON’T MIND YOU ASKING!”, again and again. The police were, of course called, and I am typing this from my holding cell at the Baltimore County Detention Center. I might be slightly exaggerating here, I should probably back it up a few hours..
The morning started innocently enough, I was off to see my eye doctor to address my rapidly deteriorating vision. The time of reading glasses in every room of the house, hanging from my shirt, perched on top of my head, stolen from my husband, has arrived. I know this happens, but since I wasn’t born with eyes that work, this doesn’t necessarily signal the end of my life as I have known it. Though, if you were in my Dr’s office this morning, you probably would have called ahead for your bedside commode and walker and had it waiting for your return home.
I arrived at the office and was politely asked to have a seat, “dear”. Okay, right there. If you are 20-something, please don’t call a 40-something “dear”..as a matter of fact, don’t call anyone “dear”, unless they are in fact, a “deer”, and that would probably be ok. So, I sat my apparently ancient, dear ass down and waited to be called. Thirty minutes later, I was summoned back to the window of shame and asked, in a whisper, “How old are you..if you don’t mind me asking?” CONGREGANTS! PLEASE REFER TO PAGE ONE OF MY BLOG HYMNAL!” My journey into writing was launched on this very premise..and so it began. The poor dear, how could she have known?
I started softly, “why would I mind?” Her response..”well, you know how people are” Still not catching on, she spies my date of birth on my record and states..”no worries, secret safe here”. Uh-oh. The red button in my brain started flashing..”push me” and I launched into my lecture about enjoying and appreciating all the years. Realizing I had a little audience behind me in the waiting room, I threw in a dramatic offer to take some folks on a little field trip to the Johns Hopkins Pediatric ICU so they could visualize how very fortunate they are to be able to grow gray and semi-blind. I heard a “Amen Sister’ from the waiting area and I marched back to my seat feeling like the Norma Rae of aging. gave a low-five to a 70- something woman, and waited for the police to arrive, because of the unfortunate scuffle that may or may not have occurred.
Screw this silly culture that devalues aging so much..hold off on posting my bail too..I think I need a break from you silly young ‘uns before I really go off the deep end ..’tis the season!