MOXIE by Shawn Raymond
Moxie Politick
HUMOR
My
daughter was having trouble falling asleep at night because of her fear
of the dark and required the hall light be on outside her room.
It was late, I was tired, and on my way to bed I turned off the hall light thinking she was asleep. The house went completely black and I fell into my bed.
"Hey," she whined loudly, "turn that back on!"
"Close your eyes and you won't know it's not on," I asserted gruffly as I snugged my pillow close, even then knowing that logic would not win the day with a scared 5 year old.
"But I need it on!" And so she whined for several more minutes before I turned on the small bedside lamp beside me I used when I got up at 5 a.m. so as not to disturb anyone else.
Her response? "I can't see that!"
My wife and I laughed and I turned the hall light back on.
It was late, I was tired, and on my way to bed I turned off the hall light thinking she was asleep. The house went completely black and I fell into my bed.
"Hey," she whined loudly, "turn that back on!"
"Close your eyes and you won't know it's not on," I asserted gruffly as I snugged my pillow close, even then knowing that logic would not win the day with a scared 5 year old.
"But I need it on!" And so she whined for several more minutes before I turned on the small bedside lamp beside me I used when I got up at 5 a.m. so as not to disturb anyone else.
Her response? "I can't see that!"
My wife and I laughed and I turned the hall light back on.
Stages of Ages
There are several stages of progression up the timeline of life where you become older and notice it. The first is when you're in line at the movie theater and the teenage ticket stub tearer says, "Thank you, sir." It's polite and innocuous but still hammers you in the head. It's a memory that sticks with you forever, like accidentally walking in on Mom and Dad while they are "Just looking for a quarter I lost!" under the bed sheets. It's unsettling. I had become a 'sir'.
The second is when you realize that you can't do the same things anymore without groaning or grunting, such as bending over to tie your shoes which you now have to do while sitting when you had always done that while standing. To further humble your ego you also find that the stretch required to tie those shoes is further complicated by the sudden roll of something very fat-like folded up around your waist like a 'swimmies' inner-tube. Very often this more difficult task is also accompanied by the unanticipated, no warning, breaking of wind. I used to laugh at my Dad when he did that. It's not so funny anymore.
It seems that the next stage is almost entirely hair related. I have always had a high hair line, my family is noted for that, but it wasn't until I hit my forties that I realized that the receding hair line was actually my hair migrating from my head going down my neck. My barber was now spending more time trimming my neck to my shoulders than my head. I fully expect that one day in my late fifties or, perhaps sixties, I'll wake up to find my head bald and my back looking like a silverback gorillas' back. And let's not forget about the hair that suddenly springs out of your ears and nose. When you go the mall and a kiosk employee wants to braid your nose hair you know it's time to buy a trimmer and weed that garden.
I'm certain that as I continue to age I'll discover even more disturbing milestones. My grandmother had 'walking gas'. You know, when with every shuffle of her feet she broke wind and either could not hear it or was old enough to not care anymore. Of course, she was 100 years old and had a hairy back. Now that's something to look forward to.
