I Can’t Be a Senior

I Don’t Have My Diploma Yet

Who­ever thought up the phrase, “hav­ing a senior moment” should be beaten severely with a hard­ened artery. Why should any lapse of mem­ory sig­nify the advance­ment of age? Just because I don’t remem­ber why I came into a room doesn’t mean that I should be mak­ing funeral arrange­ments. Espe­cially not when you con­sider childhood.

Most two-year olds have the atten­tion spans of gold­fish with ADD; they flit from one toy to the next like hyper­ac­tive hum­ming­birds. Any par­ent will tell you that a tod­dler with a ball in its hand can­not remem­ber to put the ball in the box that is two baby steps away, at least not with­out a con­stant stream of, “Put it in the box, Honey, put it in the box.” But we don’t say that they are “hav­ing senior moments.” We say that they are behav­ing like children.

From this day forth, I am renounc­ing the idea of “senior moments.” My lapses of mem­ory will be known as “tod­dler moments.” I am no longer for­get­ful; I am merely dis­tracted by a pret­tier toy.

 Now, where did I put my coffee?

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