The 4th Quarter’s Ours
I signed up for Medicare. It’s now official. I’m in the 4th quarter.
The 1st quarter started many moons ago when my heavily drugged mother gave birth to her third and favorite child. The 2nd quarter? That began when I cluelessly walked down the aisle to marry my equally clueless husband. The rest of the 2nd quarter is a blur of kids and T-ball, soccer cleats and math homework. We really should have taken more time-outs. Before I knew it, I looked down and saw knee wrinkles; that was the kick-off for quarter number three. In hindsight, the 3rd quarter could have been fun, if it wasn’t for hot flashes and an overwhelming concern that we’d raised little partiers who thought money grew on trees and who forgot to call their mother daily.
Then, out of nowhere, WHAM! It’s the 4th quarter! WHOA! You think, I better start paying attention! This game is almost over! You say, I’ve learned so much! Let me share my wisdom with you! And that’s when it hits you. No. One. Cares. This is probably due to a variety of factors. It might be the random pieces of long hair that sprout from your chin. Or it could be because you’ve worn your shirt inside out for hours, on numerous occasions. Or perhaps, and I’m not saying this happened to me, but maybe a nice stranger in an airport walked up to you to tell you that a trail of toilet paper draped out of the back of your jeans. Is this why no one cares what you think? I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I just have some facts. Here’s what I know to be true:
1. Let me reiterate that bit about what you think: no one cares! Maybe your spouse, but nah. Your kids definitely don’t. If one of your kids asks for your opinion, they want something. Probably money. Or they mistook you for someone who is not their parent.
2. You CAN buy love. See number one. Your kids will like you more if you spend money on them. (On their behalf, doesn’t everyone like people who buy them stuff?) Fortunately, it’s easy to buy them stuff because of the grandkids. These little angels only want to hug, eat cookies, and play endless games of Chutes and Ladders! Grandkids are God’s way of making up for arthritis, cataracts, creaky knees, and persistent unexplainable flatulency.
3. Warning: You probably have never used the term “bitch slap” in the past six decades, but sometimes, when people treat you like you’re invisible or, worse, useless, you just want to wind up and bitch slap them. This is normal. The recommended alternative is alcohol.
4. If you see a couple in their 60s holding hands, either they’re dating or newlyweds. Or maybe one anticipates falling, and wants to take the other down with them.
5. Men, no matter how old, gravitate toward gadgets and breasts. Also, men, no matter how old, refer to breasts as “boobies” and “titties”.
6. Wrinkles, facial hair, and sagging body parts happen. We have two choices. We can either fork out the big bucks in hopes of looking as taut as a mannequin, OR we can avoid mirrors.
7. Old people lose their filters. And their hearing. At some point in the 4th quarter, each of us will yell wildly inappropriate things. Truthfully, I’m looking forward it because I know my kids will visit me then. They’ve already told me they think I’ll become a viral sensation.
8. When we see people leaving the stadium, the time we have remaining on the clock becomes even more important. The 4th quarter’s ours to do what we want with it. We can give it all we got. Or we can drink beer and eat soft pretzels in the stands. Whatever we do, no one cares. I’ve opted to dominate the dojo in Chutes and Ladders, avoid mirrors, and blame my husband for the gas. I’ll try my darndest not to bitch slap, but it’s the 4th quarter. All plays are on the table.
* If you are one of our adult children reading this, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about your siblings.