I fear that I may have actually grown up. I guess it was a
matter of time, but I was avoiding it successfully, or so I thought.
I never felt like an adult until I had kids. I guess I
should say, adulthood didn’t occur to me until the kids arrived. Nine years
have passed since that day they inexplicably let my wife and I leave the
hospital by ourselves with a baby, and for most of that time I have only been
masquerading as an adult. That has changed.
Apparently, sometime recently, I actually became an adult. I
didn’t know it had happened until our best friends had us over for dinner a few
nights ago. It was a lovely evening. The kids played upstairs together,
sustaining only minor injuries, we watched some of the Sochi Winter Olympics and
marveled at how simultaneously strenuous and boring cross-country ski racing
is, and we ate a delicious dinner. Everything seemed perfectly normal until the
end of the evening when someone remarked at how our dinner conversations were
different than they used to be. We collaborated on a short recap of all the
topics we could remember, and the mood fell somber.
Here’s a list of our evening conversation topics:
Back pain
Spine care
Life insurance
Prostates/prostate exams
Colons/colonoscopies
Health insurance
Arthritis
Health care providers
The Affordable Care Act
The bleak irony of the term “Affordable” in the name “Affordable
Care Act”
School districts
Acupuncture
Cookie recipes
Taxes
Antacids
Podiatrists
Seasonal allergies
Mattress quality (unfortunately, with respect to back pain, not
anything fun)
Heart disease
High-fructose corn syrup
Diabetes
The room was quiet for a minute as we soaked in the fact
that none of us had thought the conversation topics were odd during the conversations.
Only after the fact did we realize - Holy crap. We’re old. This is old people
stuff. Since when are these things our stimulating conversation topics?
Looking back, it’s been sneaking up on me. When we got home
from dinner and put the kids to bed, I put on my slippers and sat quietly in my
easy chair under a quilt as I reflected. I realized I should have seen it
earlier. There were warning signs.
I have begun to turn the car radio off when looking for an
address or using the ATM, so that I’m able to concentrate. I used to give my
parents endless grief for doing that when I was a kid. They are laughing right
now.
I sit down to put on pants. Classic old guy move.
My face is going numb. I regularly have food stuck to my
face while eating and have no idea. You see old guys all the time eating dinner
with food stuck to their faces. My chin is completely dead.
I grunt when I bend over and I moan when I stand back up straight.
The other day I noticed my “Forever” postage stamps have the
year printed on them. That made me think the U.S. Post Office wasn’t really
planning to hold up their end of the “forever” bargain, and that made me mad.
Only old men get mad about stamps.
And don’t even try to get me started on my joints. No,
seriously. It’s really hard for me to get started on my joints.
There it is. I’m old now. I’m an adult, I guess. Bummer.
It won’t be long until I’m the old guy in the gym locker
room, wandering around butt-naked for a half hour, just casually having
conversations with other butt-naked old men, none of us ever once thinking to
get a towel and cover up a little.
I may as well get my lawn chair now, to put out on the front
porch and yell at the kids to stay off my grass. Damn kids drive too fast down
the street, too.
Come to think of it, that was another one of the dinner
topics.
Damn kids.
See you soon,
-Smidge
Copyright © 2014 Marc Schmatjen
Welcome to the party, Marc. Been wondering when you were going to get here ;)
ReplyDeleteI want to go back!
ReplyDeleteThere are no "backsies"
ReplyDeleteSad but true.
ReplyDeleteNow the image of you making fun of five year old Nathan, running like an old man ("heh, soup!"), is humorously ironic. Hahaha!
ReplyDeleteOw, my back.
So true, Jon! So true. Painfully ironic might be a better description. Pass me the Advil.
ReplyDelete