My aunt calls them “senior moments”. I explain them away, saying they are the early stages of Alzheimer’s. My kids call them “brain misfires”. An uncle used to call them “think-a-thons”.
Whatever you call them, it doesn’t matter how old you are, everybody has them. And, boy oh boy, do we feel stupid when it happens to us.
It’s when you look all over the house for your purse and find it hanging on your shoulder. It’s when you’re driving along in a daze and look up and realize you don’t have the foggiest idea where you are. It’s when you go to the kitchen to grab something, but forget what it was you were going to grab by the time you get there. It’s when you lock your keys in the car, or better yet, in the trunk.
Yes, I agree they are happening more often as I get older. My kids will be the first to tell you that. But, like I said, you don’t have to be old to have them.
Case in point:
My daughter (she’s at the very-young-age of 19) was returning from a three-day camp for entering freshman from the university she is attending this fall. Granted she hadn’t had much sleep during the three days. Granted she was anxious to get home. But … well, let me just tell you the story …
She was low on gas and pulled into a station to fill up. It was one of the kind where you could pay outside with a credit card, so she popped in the card and started pumping the gas. When it was through, she decided to go inside anyway to get a snack and something to drink.
She walked back out to the car, got settled in, and pulled out of the station. Several blocks later, a car pulled up beside her and a woman was frantically motioning something to my daughter, pointing to the rear of the car.
My daughter thought she must have left the gas door open or something. She waved kindly at the woman to thank her. The woman looked puzzled, as if wondering why my daughter wasn’t more upset than she was.
She looked in her rearview mirror to try to catch a glimpse of the problem, and nearly died when she saw not only the door open, but the nozzle still inserted into the tank, and the entire hose trailing in the wind behind her.
“Omigosh!!”, she thought with dread. “What have I done?” Or even better, “What should I do now?”
I laugh every time I think of her driving down the highway with the gas hose still attached. Truly a senior moment if ever I’ve heard one.
Well, she stopped on the side of the road, loaded the hose into her car and drove back to the gas station. She walked inside with the hose beside her, where a nice man asked politely, “Can I help you?”
“Uh,” was all she could manage to squeak out while she lifted the hose and, in explanation, pointed her eyes to it.
Everyone in the store erupted in laughter.
“Do I owe you something?” she asked as she handed him the long black thing.
“Nah,” the man answered. “It happens all the time.”
Sweet justice for seniors.
