It’s time to wake up and smell the dementia, people. I am getting OLD. Last week, a couple of days before Sophie’s birthday, I had a serious brain panic because I managed to hide one of her presents…from myself. I meant to hide it from the kids, but instead hid it so well that I could neither find nor remember where I put it. Fortunately, my husband found it and saved the day, as I had looked everywhere and given up all hope. I really had hidden it well, because I never would have thought to look in the place where he found it. Grreeeaaat.
Then this morning, I fell down the stairs carrying Sophie. We are both fine, as I managed to fall backward and at least ride down the stairs on my backside, and I never dropped her. However, my body feels like I was in a head-on collision car accident. My left shoulder and arm are really, really sore and so are both of my upper legs. So now, I have both the agility, mobility, and senility of an octogenarian.
Which means I better close this post up and start writing my obit…while I can still remember my name.
