by Solomon Tate
They said that I was starting to lose my mind. They had been talking about it among themselves, and had come to the conclusion that I should not be left alone. Their case was rather flimsy, filled with speculation and circumstantial evidence. I admit that I have, on occasion, roamed the house with no apparent purpose and have often wandered into rooms without knowing why but, as I have assured them, I am fine.
One of my daughters reminds me far too often that while putting away groceries, I placed a cucumber in a kitchen drawer that is reserved for parchment paper, lunch bags, and aluminum foil. In my defense, there is no reason to believe that the cucumber could not be placed in that drawer, nor do I believe that the lunch bags, parchment paper or aluminum foil have any legal claim to the drawer in question. “But there’s more.”, my daughter offers in support of their case.
It is suggested that I have forgotten food in the oven so many times that my wife has found it necessary to purchase a timer which I refuse to use as the resulting sound is so inaudible, that unless I am in the kitchen when it goes off, it can’t be heard. It seems that I have left my mobile phone in various places around the house, and I have poured liquid egg white into my coffee thinking it was milk. As a point of explanation I would like to point out that it was two in the morning, and the cartons look very much alike. I have, on more than one occasion they advise me, gone to the store to purchase bagels and returned with toilet paper. Interestingly enough, no one ever complains when one of my daughters shouts “We’re out of toilet paper.”, and my wife reminds her that there are three jumbo packs in the closet. I should have returned all of it and let them wipe their asses with the damn bagels. In their haste to have me declared feeble minded, they have started buying me cardigan sweaters and saying things like “Aw, Daddy”.
To be fair, I rather like the cardigans, as I do seem to feel cold most of the time, but there is no need for the condescension I hear every time they speak to me. “Do you need some help with the buttons?”, someone asks as they get up and walk towards me.
“Don’t you come over here!”, I bark.
I am reminded that I have been getting angry lately which, as my daughter who studied Geriatrics professes, is common in dementia patients. In my defense, if they stopped pissing me off, I would have nothing to be angry about. “When the hell are they gonna move out?”, I ask my wife.
“We can’t leave you two alone.”, someone says. “You can’t take care of yourselves.”
“We’re fine.”, my wife replies. “We take care of each other.”
“You’re worse than he is.”, another child offers. “Someone has to be here to make sure you don’t kill yourselves. I don’t what kind of damage you did with all of those drugs you old hippies were taking, but I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive this long.”
“For your information”, I informed them, “it’s been the flashbacks from the drug use that have enabled use to survive.”
“That and the sex.”, my wife added.
“You two probably don’t even remember how.”, someone added.
“Maybe not.”, I answered. “But we watch a lot of porn and that seems to be quite helpful.”
“You two are so weird.”, the middle one said. “You need to start taking this seriously.”
“I worry about you too.”, I told her. “Maybe its best if you just take things a little less seriously. You’re so wound up all of the time.”
“Why wouldn’t I be.”, she asked. “You’re so difficult. Will you at least go and see a doctor?”
“I was there last month.”, I reassured her.
“And what did he say.”, she asked.
“Drop your pants, and bend over.”, I replied.
“We’re out of here.”, she said. “You’re so frustrating.”
“It’s about time.”, I informed her. “I think our kids need to be medicated.”, I told my wife once they had all gone out.
“They’re alright.”, she said walking towards the bedroom. “But we’re alone now, so why not put on some porn and if we can figure out what to do we can have some wild sex.”
“I’m right behind you.”, I said.
“Well”, she told me. “I’m looking forward to it.”