I might need to go plop my behind in Santa’s lap soon and whisper into his hairy white ear, “Bring me some hearing aids” because GOODNESSGRACIOUSALIVE, I need them.
Do you remember the story about me giving the “skateguard” a Pay Day candy bar when he asked for a Band-Aid?
Okay, how about the story where I misunderstood a little girl four times while giving her a test? While her mom was listening? All while sweating and feeling very nervous and crampy? (You can get that great little embarrassing moment in time here.)
Okay, let’s try this one. Do you remember the story where I scoffed at having to go to a “Gay Awareness Meeting” that ended up being about something entirely different?
Not giving up. Do you remember the one where I listed off reasons I would be a really, really bad bachelorette? My husband helped me come up with the list and, believe me, my hearing loss played into that one.
None of those were nearly as funny as the one where my ex-convict ex-co-worker misheard my Fuddrucker’s manager give him orders to go and get some buns. You must read that story if you haven’t already. It is hilarious and makes me laugh to this day!
My hearing loss stories never end, my friend. I know I have a hearing loss. I have been told on multiple occasions that I have one and that maybe I should think about hearing aids. It’s just that, well, hearing aids or a dining room table, you know?
Right now I have neither.
It’s just looking more and more like I need to get those two little electronic ear plugs wrapped with a bow and into my life right now.
Earlier today I was talking to a sweet little girl with glasses on her sweet little face. She told me in an excited voice, “Santa is bringing me an eye patch!”
This made sense in this situation.
“An eye patch, huh? That’s exciting! Is it going to be colorful and really pretty and stuff?”
“Did you say eye patch?”
“Yeah! Santa’s bringing you an eye patch, you said?”
“No, I said iPad!”
Lawduhmercy, the girl said iPad.
These situations pop up all the time with me, but they are usually happening with my husband. He likes to say that he’ll say “Hey, want to go to eat?” and I’ll hear something totally different…like something about dinosaurs playing ping pong. He’s right, as long as whatever he says that I hear rhymes with what he said.
The thing is…I know it’s going to get worse, as are other things about me that are very dementia-like. I almost want to put a list together so that people know that I was already like this waaaay before I hit that 90th year mark, you know? They can’t call something “dementia” that has always been!
For example, at the age of 38, I already do the following and have done them for as long as I can remember:
1. Lose things.
2. Walk into a room and forget why I went into it.
3. Leave my precious bottle of coconut flavored Cascade Ice in places where it shouldn’t be. (Substitute any drink in place of “coconut flavored Cascade Ice. It’s my current hot item.)
4. Call my sister my oldest son’s name each. and. every. time.
5. Talk to myself.
6. Forget people’s names.
7. Fall asleep right in the middle of a show that came on at 8:00.
8. Like to take historical tours.
This list could continue on into infinity.
Maybe I was born with dementia.
Maybe it’s in my genes. (That was supposed to rhyme with Maybelline, but it didn’t and now I have exposed my weaknesses for all to see, in addition to the whole hearing loss thing.)
Do you share any traits with the old folks?
Don’t leave me hanging out on a rim here.
(Kidding. I know it’s “limb”, but I wanted you to think I had misheard it my whole life and thought it was “rim” this whole time. I couldn’t just leave the sentence like that, though, or else you would really think I thought that and then you feel REALLY sorry for me. I don’t need any tears all up in this place.)