Humor
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I don't really mind getting older. I'm a much better person now than 20 years ago and, although there are plenty of things I wish I had done differently, all I can say is that between the ages of 20 and 35 there occurred this big chunk of stupid.
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A new torment has afflicted my life.
The small 22-key Optimus electronic keyboard was a Christmas present from Grandpa Adams several years ago, before Alex was old enough to appreciate music. Grandpa loves to send the boys gifts that will help develop their musical abilities: the recorders (hidden in a dresser drawer), the lap harp (blessedly quiet), and the Optimus electronic keyboard, which was, until recently, devoid of batteries and hidden away for when the boys got older.
Well, they’re older.
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As mentioned before, I’ve been greatly blessed (or cursed, depending on who or what is sharing my space) with the gift of super-human "olfaction":http://gooblink.com/blog/index.php?id=50. This gift, however, is counter-balanced by an inherited dysfunction of sight. Oh, I wear corrective lenses to help, but dealing with hyperopia, amblyopia, astigmatism and probably other opias or isms that I just don’t bother to ask about, is just plain annoying.
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I should know better than to eat or drink while engaging in light banter with my dear husband.
We were enjoying a nice, Sunday drive in the mini-van. I quietly sipped my coffee while Chuck mused over the driving proficiency exhibited by his fellow Mankind. We both noticed the jogger on the sidewalk; strong, steady strides despite the Texas heat. We couldn’t make out the gender of the jogger. The androgynous athlete wore a red sports bra, which outside Austin would mean “girl,” and disheveled blond hair, which could be “boy” or “girl,” and had the most ripped abs I’ve seen in a long time, which to me, says “boy.” As we got closer, it was obvious it was, indeed, a girl.
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This morning, while he was getting ready to go to work, Chuck asked if I had the time to find some sort of 2-line phone splitters and cables. Last week, this would have sent me into a rant about the abhorrent condition of that garage and how I can't even find the light-switch, much less try to put my hands on objects so small. The wheelbarrow? Yes, I can see that. The lawnmower? Yes, I can make out the handle. But a 2-line phone splitter?