Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore

Sebastian, I've a feeling we're not in our twenties anymore.

(Sebastian = my cat)

On the eve of my forties, it is finally beginning to dawn on me - I'm on the eve of my forties. My twenties are long (l-o-o-o-o-n-g) gone. I'm not sure where they went, but I am telling you, those crazy days of boundless energy, oodles of free time, and startling insecurity are nowhere in sight. I am, however, well aware of where my thirties went. They were trampled in a mind-numbing stampede of pregnancies becoming babies becoming toddlers becoming school aged kids. And WHAM! Here we are waking up from the fog at 39. On the cusp.

It's comments like the following that really bring it home:

One of our college student friends who attends the university that I work for recently asked me, "So, hey, do you work with D-Rod's mom?" (It's like he's trying to speak to me, I know it.)

"D-Rod" being his roommate. "D-Rod's mom" being my co-worker.

And here's what hit me at that moment: My co-worker, my colleague, my friend ... is ... D-Rod's mom. Not my friend Sue. Somebody's mom. Somebody called "D-Rod". More startling than walking outside and finding a pair of ruby-slippered feet sticking out from under my house, it hit me that I am now a mom figure, which of course is not new, except in the frightening aspect of being a mom figure to a COLLEGE STUDENT.

Yes, it's comments like these -- and every time one of the twenty-something-year-old grad students I work with calls me "ma'am" -- that tell me it's time we faced facts here.

Dorothy had it easy. One minute she was in black-and-white Kansas and the next minute - BOOM! She was smack dab in the middle of a technicolor world of munchkins, yellow brick roads, and walking, talking, brainless scarecrows. Clearly not Kansas. Sometimes, I'm still not quite sure where I am. Maybe if I click my heels together three times ...?

2 comments:

K. Titus Rodriguez said...

Well dear one, I think it could be worse! For example, Sebastian the cat. Shall we consider him for a moment?

You could be a housebound cat staring at 72 kitty-years of age, still being corrected with squirts of water as if he were a 6-month old kitten. This of course, only when required NEVER just because he stationed himself at his food trough, looked at you and demanded food as if all you were put on the earth for is to feed him and contribute to his girth.

Also, not forgetting "yacking" puddles of partially digested food. These, often including a perfectly contoured hairball, placed hither and thither for those of the household to find with their bare feet in the darkness of the early morning hours thereby more deeply endearing himself to them.

And lastly, for now, because believe me there's scores of material here. As forgetfulness like a well-fed and watered tree begins to blossom and continue to grow and expand into all the areas of one's life, one might accidently forget where they are supposed to leave...their...excrement! And or how, one is to dispose of or cover it properly so as not to offend others.

This especially, once again in the darkness of the early morning hours when one might be awakened by an indescribable foulness that they might in semi-awareness confuse as their own morning breath. Or, for that matter that of their loving spouse? Then, emerging out of the stupor of deep sleep, the realization comes. Neither of them would ever consume anything that would produce such a gut-wrenching stench that would cause one to utter, "Oh! Ack! Oh, someone make it stop. I have to brush my teeth now and blow my nose that's the only way to get it out of my nostrils and out of the back of my throat. Honey, let's open some windows."

Yes dear one, I think it could be worse. And yes, I still love that old cat.

Hannah said...

Love that your dh leaves you a comment that should be a post in itself. :-)

I actually had the opposite experience of the "ma'am" thing mentioned, which was that when I was working in an office, I was younger or a peer of every student who walked into my office. I bet the ma'am thing from your students is more of a tongue-in-cheek thing meaning they think you're cool. That's got to be it! Besides, you look younger than your age.

Cool that you work with Sue! S-Rod, that is!