Fine Wine

I used to know a great quote about forgetting things…So Iet me rather share the following story to make my point.

Please don’t judge me.

So, one of the biggest lies I tell myself lately is: “Don’t write it down, you’ll remember it”. And I am telling you, this lie never served me well. I always had a bad memory. Apparently, it goes with the territory of being arty. Now that I am a bit more…advanced in age...in other words, more crispy, let me tell you this…it is so weird being the same age as old people. I still feel 20. I have the latest tech, even got the lingo down to a T (since I teach teenagers) and I wear Converse. (Even if it is killing my knees). I still have it! Tracking my cookies? They will never get my recipe! I am still young, full of energy and still have lots of time to sort out my pension. My best friend cracked her oh-so-welcomed-joke on my 43th birthday: “What did one saggy boob say to the other? We better perk up or people will think we’re nuts.” I did not think she was funny. I was sommer upset. Not with my friend, but with the fact that I had to make peace with the fact that I need reading glasses, so I can see the fine print on my collagen-pills. That I am still going to do dumb stuff, just slower. That I still do not know how to act my age (I mean, I have never been this age before) and once upon a time I remembered getting up without making sound effects.

 I have officially reached the age where sleeping with the wrong pillow feels like I fell out of a 15th story window.

Anyways, our dishwasher decided to also act it's age and broke down. I used the light on my phone to lighten the bottom of the dishwasher, as something didn’t drain well. I put my phone in the top rack, so I can use both my hands, pretending I know what I am doing. After fiddling for a few minutes, satisfied that I had fixed the problem, I threw in some vinegar and baking soda, put it on the longest, hottest cycle and bob’s your uncle. I made some tea and fell into the couch, contemplating this past holiday... I seriously can’t remember when my bundles of joys are going back to school! Should be about time soon. The know-it-all attitudes, the messy house…eks verby gatvol. After about 20 minutes of working myself into a stywe knoop, I got up to find my phone. Surely that info will be on my calendar? The website? Google?

But my phone was nowhere to be found.

I searched for my phone, retracing my (remembered) steps and 20 minutes later…still no phone. At that moment, my daughter asked me if I have a flashlight so she can look for something small that fell behind the bookcase…

I told her sorry liefie, I forgot our flashlight in the communal toilets at camping last week, but you can use my phone!

(Ja I know...took me second, but it hit me like a bug on a sportscar windshield)

THE PHONE IS IN THE FREAKIN DISHWASHER.

Like a tannie on her way to the NG-kerkbazaar met die wenner-melktert, I ran to dishwasher and pulled it open mid-cycle. Hot steam came bubbling up, and my +1 glasses became mistier and mistier. As the steam evaporates, I peered inside and wraggies.

There is my phone. Papnat, hot and shiny, and smelling great. I can see my grille reflecting back at me.

And guess what? The phone is still working! No idea if the fancy cover saved the day, or the fact that Samsung phones just rocks, but hey, I am super impressed (off course also with my dishwasher-fixing-skills) and according to my calendar which was the first app I checked on my super-hero phone... the schools started on Monday…

It is Tuesday people.

Later that day, I asked God what is the use of all this wisdom we gained if we keep on forgetting things when we get older? I mean, what kind of superior intellect am I actually passing down to my kids? I am a bit worried.

But He reminded me that they are at that age where they know everything! EVERYTHING! I don’t have to tell them anything anymore because they already know! In fact, they know more that I do and more than their dad! We actually should be thrilled! What a joyous time. Problem solved.

So I replaced my tea with a glass of wine, fell back on the couch, and started contemplating how I am going to explain the fact that my kids missed their first day of school. I looked at the wine in my hand, thinking about the old saying that just like a fine wine, we get better with age. Well, I just proved that age-old saying wrong, now didn’t I? The reality is that I feel so much better about my age with a glass of wine at 10 am on a Tuesday morning!

It's the little things...

Zalea Dold (August 2021)