OldCouple 800

memories pressed between the pages of my mind

EXACTLY WHEN MEMORY be­comes an issue varies from person to person. (And I am not re­fer­ring to short-term memory loss brought upon by the smoking of mar­i­juana.) Suf­fice to say that failing memory is very common among se­niors, a so­cial sub-genre of which I am now a member.

With that, I would like to il­lus­trate the ex­tent of these prob­lems with a per­sonal anec­dote in the form of a con­ver­sa­tion be­tween my­self and my wife, Berni. For ease of reading, I wrote it in the third person and in the present tense so that it reads like a joke being told:

Sev­eral hours after dinner, Berni and Neal are sit­ting on the couch once again watching their col­lec­tion of Northern Ex­po­sure (it is the episode ti­tled “Only You” in which Chris in the Morning is having is­sues with his pheromones causing every woman in his prox­imity to be at­tracted to him, causing Neal to fondly re­call his younger years—but that’s an­other story). Neal puts the disc on hold and stands up and starts shuf­fling for­ward.

Berni asks, “Where yuh going?”

“The kitchen.”

Berni says, “Bring me some ice cream!”

“Okay.”

And as he turns to leave, Berni says, “Now don’t forget!”

And Neal turns and says, “I’m not gonna ferget—you want a bowl of ice cream!”

And he turns to leave again.

“Wait!” or­ders Berni.

“Now what?”

“I want whipped cream, too,” de­mands Berni.

“Okay.”

And as he turns to leave, Berni re­peats, “Now don’t forget!”

And Neal turns and says, “I’m not gonna ferget—you want a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream!”

With a huff he turns to leave again.

“Wait!” or­ders Berni.

“NOW what?”

“Peanuts!” ex­claims Berni. “I want crushed peanuts on my ice cream!”

“Okay!”

And as he turns to leave, Berni says for the third time, “Now don’t forget!”

And Neal turns and says, “I’m NOT gonna ferget—you want a bowl of gawd­damn ice cream with whipped cream and crushed nuts!”

For the final time he turns and stomps off to the kitchen.

Thirty min­utes later, Neal shuf­fles back from the kitchen and with a look of modest tri­umph, he hands Berni a plate of bacon and eggs. She looks at it for a long time then mut­ters, “I knew it! I knew it!”

“What?!?” ex­claims Neal.

“You forgot the damn toast …”

 

 

 

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