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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT March 1st When you are old, what do you think children will ask you to tell stories about? Old? What's old? Grumble, grumble, wheeze. My grandparents and great-grandparents were old. Have I reached that age, the age they once were? Am I considered a gasp, senior? Is my youth a dimming memory? Do children identify me as an old lady? I suspect children will attempt to test my faculties in an effort to determine if I still have my wits about me. They will need to know if I am barmy, or believable. One day in a school corridor surrounded by seven-year olds speaking in unison: "Uh, did you know your eye is all red and black?" Me: "I had noticed that, too." "Does it hurt? Can you touch it? Look, I can touch my eye with my finger." Me: "Yep, it hurts a little. I can touch it, but I'm trying not to." "Why?" Me: "Why what?" "Why is it all red and black?" Me: "This is my Halloween eye. Tomorrow, I won't need to put on make-up." A nine -year old staring at my large, purple knee scar and tracing its length with her finger: "Does it hurt?" Me: "Nope, not any more." "Oh. Why is it wrinkly? I don't have that." Me: "A doctor cut me open to fix my knee and then he sewed it back up." "With a sewing machine? My Nan makes me clothes and stuff. Why didn't you fix it?" Me: "Well, I would have, but I'm not very handy with machinery." Stopped at a red light in an idling car: "Nanna. Did you go to school?" Me: "Why yes I did, Emily." "Did you not learn that green means go? Get goin'." Me: "Hey, who's the driver here? Yes, the light turned green, but I cannot go until the way is clear." "Everyone knows that green means go. Just go." A discussion with five-year olds gathered at a fence during recess: Me:"Hi Glenn. I saw your Mom drive you to school. It's great she has her licence now, eh?" Glenn nodded, a man of few words. A friend piped in. "My sister drives and she's sixteen." "My Grandpa drives me." "Oh, he must be sixteen." "My Nan is fifty-two." "My Mom says she's too old to answer questions." "My brother is twelve and I'm five." "Mom says I'm old enough to know better." "My Dad is five." Me: "Pardon? Your Dad is five years old?" "Yes, silly. He's been my Dad when I was a baby and I'm five." Children never want for questions. Perhaps some day I will be asked if I wore a mask to school. Will I sound plausible when I answer with an emphatic no? Would they believe me to be stretching the truth when I mention that I did not have to click a seatbelt to travel in a vehicle, or pull on a helmet to ride my bike? |
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