THE DAY OF THE MID-LIFE CRISIS      

        Remember that song from the 60's, " I Talk To The Trees But They Don't Don't Listen To Me." It was catchy and kookie, as everything was then. And although I am not talking to the trees, I am talking to inanimate objects that used to be trees, such as my mahogany dining room set, my maple kitchen stools, my oak book shelves...anything that I bump into as I walk around my apartment.. My comments to them are one sided and always the same;

"Oops, sorry," of course they don't answer me, they can't hear me but if they could
they'd probably say," Be careful! Don't be such a klutz! You can hurt yourself...and us!"

Unlike them my mirrors were friendlier...at the beginning. When our Senior Home was built years ago, the decorators came up with the brilliant idea of installing floor to ceiling wall mirrors in some of the rooms. It was fine, we and the mirrors got along fine.They liked me and I in turn kept them free of dust and grime.

But I noticed as I got older that they were becoming hostile. And 

today each of them stared straight at  me sending me a message, a not very

tactful one. "You look like something the cat dragged in. Pick up the phone. 

Make an appointment for a haircut, a touch-up...just for starters.

I knew they were right but I didn't appreciate their rudeness...and their

frankness.

"Oh yeah," I answered, "I'll pick up the phone alright. Remember Al, 

our contractor? He'll be my first call tomorrow... so Guys, you're all 

on notice...say Bye Bye,"     

At our 'Senior Home' we have a monthly Birthday Party for  those of us

who were celebrating a birthday .We get balloons at our tables, a delicious

and beautifully decorated birthday cake, and are also serenaded with
Happy Birthday To You by the large roomful of our fellow seniors.

Sandra, our emcee then took over,"Now remember," she said in her

lecturers voice, 'You're As Old As You Feel' and 'Age Is Just A Number'."

I raised my hand, " I am 85 today, but I feel like 75." Applause swept the

room.

Clara stood, "Oh yeah? Well I'm 85 and I feel like 95" she said.
"Ladies," Sandra scolded us, "Age Is Just A Number."

"You said that already," said Clara. "Now tell that to my arthritic knees."

"And my lower back,"called out another. 

"My left shoulder."

Voices came from around the room.with the names of hurting body parts.

We Seniors have our own unique sense of humor.Some of us, when asked

how we are feeling will touch our wrist and say," Well, still alive," 

Others responding to the same question,will put her hand to her chest,

"Yep! It's beating!"

We find these type of remarks humorous but when our visiting families

overhear them they get angry," You all may think it's funny and cute," 

they'd tell us," "but  we don't. We worry about you!" We all agreed

that we should cut it out when they were around! 

"Some of you are going through a mid-life crisis," our moderator Sandra

suggested, scanning the room. Like you," she pointed to me.

"ME!"  I had a bad day with my wall mirrors this morning, I was in no mood

for this insult, Thanks a lot I thought! 'Mid-life' of 85 years old is 170 !

I got my cell phone out and called my daughter Debbie to her office,

told her what had happened this morning with the mirrors' and their 

message to me. Then I told her about Sue's remarks to me about 

'mid-life crisis.'  

Debbie burst into laughter, and I could sense her rolling her eyes, "Ma,
middle of 85 years is 42 and a half years old, not 170. You never were
good at arithmetic."

Now  it was my turn to burst into laughter, " Honey, I used to hate it

when you told me that I was not good in arithmetic...now...today I am so

glad to hear it.!"

                                                  THE END