My husband and I are getting older. It's hard when we still feel young inside but our bodies, and more importantly our minds, don't work like they used to. We both..umm... leak a little when we cough or strain. And one time he glibly commented that we were both so tired that if we wanted to get a little action, we would have to lie there and pray for an earthquake.
It's not quite that bad, but it's close.
For example, today. I am at work, in business attire, visiting with a customer'/client while making a purchase. I reach to put something in my back pocket and feel a flap of fabric that shouldn't be there. I feel around and realize it is my body-shaper that has not been appropriately hooked and is flapping in the breeze. Front and back. And dingy white against my dark jeans and black top. It's not humiliating enough, I guess, that I have to wear such a garment to hold in the middle-age spread I try to pretend I don't have. Now I have to advertise to the world that I wear it, that I'm not a good enough laundress to keep it white, and that I don't have the sense God gave a younger woman to hook the hooks and snap the snaps before I go out to meet the public.
This month alone I have left both my bank card and day planner (which holds all my personal information) in a restaurant and shopping cart respectively. Thankfully I live in a great community and both were returned unsullied and unused.
Two weeks ago I lost my cell phone while shopping with my daughter in St. George. We called every store we'd been in, (including the Best Buy where I bought my husband an iPod to replace the one he shattered by slamming it in the door minutes before because he forgot it was sitting on his lap). No one had seen it. Finally, my daughter, who is younger and much less senile, offered to drive back to those businesses and look around. She was calling it while walking to her car and heard music coming from her garage...where my phone was laying on the ground next to her freezer. I had apparently bent over to get ice for my Coke and the phone fell out of my bra.
Ah! The phone in my bra, now that's a another senior moment story. I actually carry two cell phones in my bra as I am constantly knocking the holster kind off by turning sharp corners as I walk. (I have wide enough hips as it is, what with that aforementioned middle-age spread thing.) When it rings in the middle of a chamber of commerce meeting, it can be a little embarrassing. What is most embarrassing is that I am constantly patting my bosoms in search of a phone...and people don't always realize that is my purpose. *blush* And worse that that? I often feel my phones vibrating in my bra WHEN THEY ARE NOT IN MY BRA!
My kids takes this in stride remembering that a few years ago, while driving a '91 Chevy Beretta, I could hear the theme of “I Love Lucy” when the radio wasn't on. Maybe it's not senility. Maybe it's just me.
I can hope for the best, but I know darker days are on the horizon. Get out the Ginseng , Vitamin E and Aricept. And maybe a straightjacket for good measure.
Hold on a minute...*pats bosoms* ...I think my phone is ringing.