The Aging Mind

The aging mind is an interesting thing.

I've been thinking about why I blog, and there are two reasons.

The first is the reason I began blogging. But, I cannot at present remember what that reason was.

The second reason is that blogging is the only way I have any idea at all what I did the day before.

Yet. Here I sit, googling things about memory.

The early morning hours of April 25, 2007 I will certainly not forget. No. Even if I didn't record it here, I would not forget it.

It was the moment when THGGM and I stared blurry eyed at our OWN raging insanity.

It is my habit to come to bed two hours after THGGM. This way, I can be assured that he is sound asleep and my bedtime reading ritual will not disturb his slumber.

So, on April 25, 2007 I wearily climbed the stairs to bed.

I turned on the lamp by my side of the bed.

I noted that THGGM didn't look like he was very deeply asleep. I noted this, because he was snoring in that 'Sunday afternoon on the couch' way.

As I went to the closet to change from clothes that smell like peanut butter (my destiny!) I had a little story running through my head about the robin who is building a nest outside of our closet window. It was a story in which the robin's name was Darlene, and her mother-in-law was berating her for choosing such a bad spot to build a nest. She was yammering away in my head about Darlene's not noticing how often the 'owner of the shirts' change them each day. Yes. THGGM owns many many brightly colored shirts which he changes every evening with alarming frequency. I'm sure Darlene's mother-in-law noticed that.

I exited the closet and closed the door, so Darlene and her little family wouldn't have to contend with the light. Notice my extreme thoughtfulness towards Darlene.

When I closed the door, it made one of those shrill squeaks that only a closet door in a very old house can make. There is also a charmingly decoupaged smashed can hanging on the doorknob, which added a note of finalization to the shrill squeak.

And, that is when it happened. The insanity.

THGGM woke, thinking that what he had heard was me screaming and something falling. (remember, it wasn't all that long ago that we had a deep conversation under the covers while a bat flapped around our bedroom. anything was possible.)

He rose up off the bed in a way that can only be described as levatating.

And he began screaming at the top of his lungs "WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?"

I was SO shocked that I screamed. I did not scream words. No. Not at first.

It was then I realized he thought there REALLY was something in the closet.

Of course, I could not help but scream "THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING! THERE ISN'T ANYTHING!"

Now. Find a friend. One of you take THGGM's lines, and the other my lines. Both must scream in the loudest 'out door' voice imaginable at exactly the same time.

Now, do you think that Darlene will EVER come back?