March Madness

No, not basketball, but I am calling Kentucky. But Wow! March is almost over and I haven’t posted since I tried out to be Abe! It’s weird because things haven’t really been crazy, but at the same time I feel like this month has just flown by in a blur. So many small things have been happening, so I guess this post is going to be pretty short. To be honest, I think I’m experiencing writers block: Blog edition. In all honesty I have no idea what I feel like writing about. Nothing that exciting happened to be this month. I turned 20, but big deal. Nothing is special about 20. It’s just society’s way of saying, “Oh look, you’re 20. You’re no longer a teenager, but you still haven’t reached the last big (youth) milestone of 21. Sucker! Have fun feeling old!” And that’s exactly how I feel…. Old. I’m twenty years old. Everything about that word just sounds old. My birthday was March 9^th, and the day after, I went with my youngest brother, David and my mom to go to visit my grandma at her nursing home. This is how some of it went….

Mom: Time to go!

Mom: Are you coming?

Me: I can’t.

Mom: What?

Me: I belong here.

Mom: What? Come on. We’re leaving.

Me: Don’t look at me. I’m all old and twenty-ish. I don’t want you to see me like this.

(If you think that I was offending the actual elderly residents, think again. 99% of them couldn’t hear a train 10 feet away…. Speaking of hearing loss and trains, I have a funny story about that. See below*)

Mom: Well, we’re leaving. Bye.

Of course I had to go, even though I felt like I was sneaking out of the nursing home. When the receptionist said “Bye” as we were walking out the door, I knew that “Bye” actually meant, “I see you trying to sneak out of here. You can’t fool anyone. You have twenty written all over you…. Old fart.”

But, before I slip too far back into a midlife, midlife crisis again, I’m going to take my mind off that and wrap this post up since I have writers block. Thanks for listening to my rant about being…. Twenty…. Ehhh.

* Random story about hearing loss and trains. A weird combination, I know, but a few summers ago, my family and my grandma went up to Michigan to visit my great aunt, Marge. Marge and my grandma (Grandma Francis Pickle… if you remember that post) are sisters. My grandma at the time was about 88 and Marge was about 90. To make things interesting, both of them can’t hear. I mean they can hear, but not very well at all. So, we walk into Marge’s house and this is how the conversation went

Dad: Hi Marge. We came to visit you, and we brought your sister.

Marge: What? You kids are always whispering. Speak up!

Dad: We came to visit you! And Francis is with us!

Grandma: Hi Marge! How have you been?

Marge: What? What about my oven?

Grandma: WHAT? I can’t hear you!

Marge: DID SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING ABOUT MY OVEN? NEVERMIND. OH, HI FRANCIS!

Grandma: (turning to my Mom) Is she talking to me? I can’t hear a thing.

Mom: That’s because you don’t have your hearing aid in.

Grandma: MARGE! SALLIE SAID YOU SHOULD PUT YOUR HEARING AID IN!

(At this point both of them are yelling because both of them forgot to put their hearing aids in)

Mom: No. I didn’t sa-

Marge: HOW DID YOU FOLKS GET HERE?

Dad: You two should probably stop yelli-

Marge: YOU TOOK A TRAIN? WHERE ARE THERE TRAINS AROUND HERE?

Dad: Nevermind then. WE DROVE HERE!

Marge: WHAT? WHICH TRAIN?

My brothers and I were laughing hysterically in the background as the yelling between the practically deaf sisters continued. My Dad tried to explain how we got here, but after 10 minutes, he just settled saying, “Yes Marge. We took a train.” And that’s how deafness and trains relate:)