Conversations this past week have had us laughing – seriously hard laughing – which when you think about it, is exactly what we’ve needed the past 10 grueling months of COVID-19.
And I’m quite sure we’re not done yet because ... um ... age ... forgetfulness ... on top of stressed out, Coronavirus brain.
It started at the Post Office on Wednesday. We decided to swing by and mail a package and then go for a walk around one of our fabulous community marinas. I drove – John was my passenger. It was a beautiful day with bright blue sky, no clouds of any kind, and a brilliant sun. Here in the Northwest we become very used to gray, drab, dull winter days; when the sun does come out we’re all blinded and digging frantically for sunglasses. I have two pair of Maui Jim’s – one prescription and one for those days when I’m wearing my contacts. This happened to be a contact-wearing day, so pair #2 was the choice.
Now that I've set the scene for you ...
I parked in front of the Post Office. Hopped out, skipped up the stairs (it was a sunny, skippy kind of day), silently said “Yay” for no line, got my package mailed, and headed back for the car.
Something didn’t feel right as I got back in, so I stopped, looked around, and said: “Well crud. Where’d I leave my sunglasses? Dang it, I must have left them on the counter.” I was half-way out the car door when John said, “What? Where are you going?” To which I replied, “I’ve left my sunglasses on the counter. I have to go back before someone steals them.” To which he said, “Um, they’re ON YOUR FACE?”
You know how you put your sunglasses on the top of your head and then can’t find them? Well, that’s understandable as they’re out of the way. But mine? They were ON MY FACE. COVERING MY EYES. I even had to touch them to realize that, yep, there they were. On. My. Face. (listen closely for my very. large. Sigh.)
John started to laugh, which made me laugh, which made him laugh harder, which made me laugh even harder, which was just what we needed. Granted, it was at my expense, but I’m happy to be that person.
Our entire walk, he’d suddenly start to chuckle again, comment that my sunglasses were, actually, still on my face (just in case I didn't know that), which would make me laugh too. I’m sure our fellow walkers wondered what in the heck we’d been drinking to make us act so ridiculously goofy. Sunglasses 1 | Janet 0
On Friday, the laughing continued for several minutes as we tried to name a dinner. You know you’re showing your age when you can’t call a dinner by the right name. We were finishing dinner, and John said, “I can’t remember what we’re taking out of the freezer for tomorrow night. Shephard’s Pie?”
There was quite a long pause before my reply because I was thinking to myself ... ‘Did we make Shephard’s Pie? Do I remember that? I thought the potatoes were for this weekend’s soup? How old is that Shephard's pie if I can’t even remember even making it?’
So ... I responded ... “Shepard’s Pie? Do we have Shepard’s Pie in the freezer?” And John said, “Oh wait. It’s Taco Soup.” I silently think, ‘Huh?’ Then offered, “Oh, ya. Soup. Wait. Do we have soup in the freezer?”
At that point we'd started to laugh at each other. What the hell is in the freezer that we want to unfreeze for tomorrow night’s dinner?? And what the HELL is it called???
Finally, in fits of laughter, I said, “Okay, wait. I remember - it’s Taco Pie in the freezer.” By then we’re choking on our laughter and wiping tears. John said, “Well, good, because I’m not a fan of mashed potatoes on top of my tacos.” To which we fall apart all over again.
Covid-19 stress relief, version 2,034. The Goofballs say You're Welcome.
So ... here’s the bottom line for us. If this continues, we’re in deep trouble, friends. There is going to come a day soon when we’re sitting at the table, I’m wearing my Maui Jim’s, and neither of us have any clue of what the hell we’re eating, let alone what it's called.
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