Posted by: jility | December 20, 2010

Alzheimer’s or Idontgiveashitzheimer’s?

They don’t call them “Grumpy Old Men” for nothing. I loved that movie and laughed my ass off. Don’t you wish you could LITERALLY laugh your ass off? How much fun would weight loss be then? The only fat people would be the ones with no sense of humor (remember my last blog? They would be the category 4 people). It would be easy to spot the miserable people with no sense of humor and we could avoid them like the plague. I would wear a size 2! But I digress…

Anyway, it seems the older some men get, the grumpier they get. I can hardly wait for a few more years when Sir Cussalot REALLY gets grumpy! GEESH! He has always been a bit of a grumpy slob but now he doesn’t give a shit. He used to pretend he cared about picking up after himself but NOT anymore.

When I met him, Sir Cussalot was a single father raising four kids. He worked full time, did all the cooking (there was little or no cleaning) and laundry. He had two piles of clothes on his living room floor: a pile of dirty clothes and a pile of clean clothes. They would toss their dirty clothes in the appropriate pile and grab something to wear from the clean pile. He said it saved a bunch of time and steps. It made perfect sense to him! I witnessed the youngest girl (8 at the time) trying on various outfits, then tossing the ones she rejected into the dirty pile unworn. She could go through half of her clean clothes before finding the right thing to wear with ALL rejects ending up in the dirty pile to be unnecessarily washed again! As an engineer, I was surprise Sir Cussalot hadn’t noticed this slight flaw in his plan.

So, last year he bought this beautiful rain coat. It had a zip out liner for days he needed just something lightweight to remove the chill. Sir Cussalot is always leaving his shit lying around and never puts it back where it belongs. I get on him (OK nag him) about it but, in all the 36 years we have been together, the nagging has done no good. He hates it when I nag him but if he would just do it right in the first place, there would be no nagging! It is well within his power to stop the nagging! I think men aren’t happy unless we are nagging them, otherwise, they wouldn’t procrastinate doing what they know should be done. RIGHT??? But I digress again!

So back to the coat. The coat is lost. It is not on the floor, in the closet or in the car (the three most likely places for it to be). That means, it is lost. It was left somewhere (as usual) after being tossed off rather than taken back to a place where it would be found again. He lost two of his best pairs of agility pants as well as some other things recently. This is not something new to advancing years. It has been happening for the past 36 years that I have known Sir C (and I am sure long before that). My guess is his mommy picked up after him as he went along shedding clothing, bike parts, tools or anything else he happened to be using at the time. His younger brothers are neatnicks (too bad Sir C didn’t get even a little piece of that!). Mel says he got the height gene and the bald gene and they got the organization gene.

This afternoon he spent an hour searching for a little piece of cable from the TV antenna he had removed THURSDAY when we were getting ready to leave for the trial. How do you lose something in a 400 sq foot RV in only four days??? He was Sir Cussalot at his finest retracing his steps over and over and over again, cussing every step of the way. He looked every place except the most logical place to leave it! Finally, he thought to look in a cabinet below the TV and there it was! Imagine that? It was where it should have been! NO WONDER HE COULDN’T FIND IT!

Why is it, when most men look for something, they open a closet, cabinet or refrigerator and expect it to jump out from behind whatever is hiding it and hang in the air in front of their face? Then they say they can’t find it so they cuss (well certain knighted men do), get pissed, slam the door and stomp away. A few minutes later, they are back standing in front of the same open door, waiting for that object to hurl itself through the air and land in their hand. They may even ask where it might be (usually in an accusatory tone that screams WHERE DID YOU PUT IT BIATCH? YOU MOVED IT JUST TO MESS WITH ME I KNOW IT! IT IS A FEMALE CONSPIRACY SO WE ARE DEPENDENT ON YOU!!! But of course they would never say that outloud!). We tell them exactly where it is but they STILL can’t find it! After the third or fourth time “searching,” when they are totally convinced the object in question has vanished or been hidden to make them look bad, woman steps in and saves the day. With the fun of watching him flounder with his half ass attempt at discovery over, she opens the door, looks exactly where she told him it would be and there it is! It is amazing how that works every single time!

This morning I was talking on the phone to my friend Uncle Jef, lamenting about the poor memory, apathy and the grumpiness of Sir Cussalot. So Uncle Jef laughs and says, “Maybe he has Alzheimer’s. One of the symptoms is grumpiness you know.” and I say, “No, he has always been this way. He just doesn’t give a shit about his things and he has always been grumpy.” So Uncle Jef says, “Well then, maybe he has Idontgiveashitzheimer’s.” I agreed. Case closed.


Responses

  1. Helen I sure hope I meet you some day 🙂 All your posts crack me up. Wit-E!


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