Senior Moments

So, I’m in Chicago. Kim is in Europe, Michael Anne in Madison. I look in the refrigerator and it’s pretty barren, so I make a grocery list. I put on my coat, head out the door, take the elevator down, and walk the four blocks to Treasure Island. On my way, I think, “Darn, I forgot my phone. Oh well, no one will call, anyway.”

I grab a cart at the store, take out my list, and start shopping. Half way through, it dawns on me that I don’t have my wallet and don’t have any money. “Shucks,” I say (well, OK, that’s not exactly what I said), “I’ll have to go back.” So, I retrace my steps with the cart to return the items to the shelves, then walk back to the condo.

In the condo I decide to take along my “green” shopping bag so that I won’t need to take a bag from the store. Then I look for my phone. I looked in all the usual places, but just couldn’t find it. “Hmmm. I could just pick up the land line phone and call my cell. Great idea.” So that’s what I did. The phone rang and I could hear it clearly. But in what direction was the ring coming from? I am not kidding when I say I walked into every room in the condo trying to pinpoint where the ring was coming from. The ringing stopped and I still hadn’t found it. “Shucks,” I said again. I looked under things and in things. I dialed the number again. It rang again. I searched again.

Talk about frustration. Honestly, it continued ringing the second time until it went to voice mail again and I still hadn’t found the phone. And then, for reason I can only attribute to habit, I reached back to my left rear pocket --- guess what --- that’s where it was.

And that’s when the full understanding of a senior moment came to me.

Footnote: I listened to my two recorded voice mails, and I could almost hear and feel the frustration of me walking around the condo looking for the damn phone. That’s when I broke out in hilarious laughter. And I knew I had to share the story with someone.