I Am Old

I am old. I came to that determination this weekend when two grandsons spent the night.

You know you’re old when the children and grandchildren visit and start checking dates on items in your possession and tossing those out of date.

My youngest grandson showered and brushed his teeth in my bathroom. When I went in later, I saw he had thrown away my Listerine. I thought it odd, but took it out of the trash, rinsed it off, and set it back on the counter.

I didn’t think to ask him about it.

The next morning at some point, I went in the bathroom, after Jr. had brushed his teeth, and again my Listerine was in the garbage. This time it was replaced with the large bottle of Listerine from under the cabinet. Odd, indeed.

This time I had the presence of mind to ask him why he did that. He said, “Grandma Kathy, it’s out of date.”

This time it was my turn to laugh. I buy the larger bottle for cost savings, but I keep the smaller bottle on the counter. There’s no telling how many times I’ve refilled that smaller bottle.

I explained that to the 12-year-old know-it-all, and I’m not sure he bought it, but he didn’t go back in there and throw out the little bottle again.

I remember visiting my grandmother and doing the same thing. But I was an adult…and she WAS OLD (80s-90s).

It’s funny what we consider old. My husband used to say 80 was old. I told him to look at his mom; she was spry, of sound mind and body, and a great person to be around. Certainly up in years, but not old.

It seems old changes with our age. When we are teen-agers, 30 is old. When we are 30, 50 is old, and so on. Both my parents are deceased, and not long after Daddy died, I realized I was the older generation. Then, when Jimmy’s mom died, he joined me. There’s no one left, in the family anyway, older than us. That must mean that we are old. And if you don’t think so, just ask Jr.