Rantings of a Mad, Middle-Aged Mama…

I like to keep things light in the humor department…especially in light of all the hard days of my past and the recent losses…basically, in general. Life is hard.

No one told me, when I was younger, about distressing things that I would come across during my aging process. I am forty-eight, which is nearly fifty…half a century old…anyway, I am getting distracted. At first these discoveries made me a bit mad, but now I have to laugh, because they’re so insane…I thought I’d share the insanity that is aging.

I was recently in an elevator at a hospital for medical testing — nothing major. I thought the elevator music was catchy. Wait, I think I know this song? I started thinking of what it could be, because there were no lyrics, only the melody. Wait…is THAT ‘Panama’ by Van Halen? Seriously!?! I remember back in the day when this song came out and I watched the video premiere on MTV!?! OMG! I was completely annoyed when I finally reached my floor/destination. I know, because my right eye was twitching…

A few years ago, my youngest child and I went into an antique store to browse. We were looking at the cases and shelves of treasures. I turned a corner and saw my baby sippy cup from when I was little: a yellow Tommee Tippee cup, with a rounded/weighted bottom…and, wait, what??? They wanted $50 for it!?! My heart dropped a bit, or perhaps that was my ego…it was at this time my son caught up with me and looked at what I was staring at. “What a cool antique cup, Mom!”

“Babe!” I said, sharply. “Vintage. It’s called vintage.”

“Oh,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s still cool, despite being so old.” It was at THAT moment, that I became massively annoyed with my age. Can’t blame the teenager. I thought 40’s was old when I was a teen too. Ugh.

Lastly, AARP magazine arrived in the mail the other day. My teen handed me the pile of mail. “Oh,” I said to him, as I flipped through it. “Looks like some of Sharon’s mail got into ours.” [Sharon is our elderly next door neighbor.] I handed it back to him. “Please go take it to her.”

He started to walk out the front door, but turned around. “Mom,” he said. “It has YOUR name on it.” Well, F*CK!

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