You know what the worst part of getting older is? It’s not that I don’t recognize my face in the mirror in the morning. It’s not that I have to work out twice as hard just to stay even. It’s not even the chin hair. It’s going to my pantry and finding five large bottles of ketchup.
When you find five large bottles of ketchup in your pantry that means that at least four times you’ve gone to the store only to discover you have no idea why you are there and the only thing you can think to do is buy a large bottle of ketchup. The upside to having so much ketchup in the house is the potential eBay windfall should Heinz go out of business. And the lycopene! Should ketchup suddenly become unavailable, all of our lycopene needs will be met for years to come. I can’t tell you how nice it is to be able to put my head on my pillow at night and not have to worry about that.
Ironically, before I had a child, I had a great memory. Up until four years ago, I could name all the kids in my kindergarten class. I could remember all kinds of useless information like what the six flags of Texas are, the periodic table and the geologic time scale. But now that I have a kid and actually need my memory to do useful things like remember to buy stuff at the grocery store that is not ketchup, I’m tapped out.
The other day I was on the phone with the mother of one of Sean’s classmates, setting up a play date, and I asked her what would be a good time to come over. She said 2:30. I said that sounded great and then she gave me her address. Before I had finished writing down the name of the street, I had no idea what time I was supposed to be at her house. And had to ask again.
I think I will bring a 36-oz bottle of ketchup as a hostess gift. If I remember to go.