See My Keys?

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How many of us, on a daily basis, have lost (oh, okay, misplaced) our keys? It’s by no means the end of the world as we know it. It’s just a case of senior moment-itis. Or is it…?

And it’s not just our keys anymore either. We lose our phones and our wallets, too. But it doesn’t end there. We carry around so much weight (women particularly) because of all the stuff we insist on taking with us in our handbags – just to leave the house:

  • Multiple forms of ID
  • Breath mints
  • Lipstick
  • Feminine products 
  • Pen and paper (if you’re my Mom and you don’t have a smart phone)
  • Coupons (if you’re my Mom and you can’t resist a sale)
  • Tissues (if you’re my Mom and you can find multiple uses for them)

Don’t even get me started on the room-to-room surveillance mission. I tell myself each and every time that I needn’t write stuff down because I’m just going to the next room… Then, as I look around (helplessly trying to find a clue as to what I came into that room for), I start taking a mental picture of my surroundings:

  • Will something familiar tip me off?
  • Will an object just magically appear in front of my eyes?
  • Maybe if I retrace my steps it’ll all suddenly become crystal clear? 

I could go on and on and on but I need to go out and run some errands… See my keys?!

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The Name Game

Evernote Snapshot 20150507 132509

Ever notice how the more time you spend with people, the more you start to think like them? We all have those moments when we can’t remember what we were going to say or do. Some call them senior moments and some (more colorfully) call them brain farts. But we all have them at one time or another – some more frequently than others and some who flat out deny their very existence.

Living with my parents is sometimes like living in prehistoric times. I’ve come to realize that the remote control is a clicker, a CD is a tape, the cell phone is a ringer, the printer is a copier and the DVR is a recorder. It’s not that these ‘alternate’ names are confusing. It’s fairly easy to tell what my parents are referring to most of the time – especially when they… point.

It’s when the parentals are at a total loss for words yet they expect you to read their minds, nonetheless, that you become somewhat frazzled and impatient. It can go from one extreme to the other:

1) The Dangerous Chair – a comfortable chair that, once sat on, makes an octogenarian fall immediately asleep. This covers every chair in the home from the most comfortable recliner to the hardest, metal folding chair.

2) Squeaky thingy – this can be anything from the upstairs neighbors walking around on parquet floors to a door that needs oiling.

3) Ice box – an old fashioned name for a refrigerator/freezer.

4) Who-ja-ma-bob – again, could be a razor, an alarm, the doorbell, the tv… anything whose name doesn’t immediately register.

5) Thingamajig – see above.

And don’t even get me started on proper names. Whether it’s trying to remember a person’s name from the past, a character or actor’s real name from tv or even their only daughter’s name (I usually come in at about 5 or 6 down on the list – after my brother, my grandparents, their grandkids), I’ve gotten so used to it that I’ll basically answer to any of the above… especially if it’s for something really good that I didn’t even do!