All about me
The first time that I realized I was getting “old” was when I went to a doctor who was younger than I was. Freaked me out a little, but then I got over it. The next time was when I had a very adorable spin class instructor, yes, I went through a spinning phase, and I wanted to adopt him instead of date him.
Yes, these little things happen that make us realize that we are getting older. Like no longer being able to read your phone with your glasses on. Or saying the word “what” a lot. Or not remembering why you got into your car. Or maybe these things just happen to me. Because it is all about me. Anyway…
Last week, I accompanied Husband #1 to the doctor because he has been having some trouble walking short distances. Or any distance. We got to the office, and a young man took us back to the exam room and started asking Husband #1 a whole series of questions.
“Are you old enough to drive yet?” I asked the young man. He laughed and kept asking questions.
When he was finished, he shared his age with us. 23. I am still young enough to be his mom. Yes, that is now the standard by which I will measure my age — if I am still young enough to have birthed you myself, I am still “young.”
How is that for denial? In any event, if you were worried about Husband #1 and why we were at the doctor in the first place, he is probably going to need another epidural shot for his pain, caused by something going on in his back. The doctor says it happens to some people. I hope it helps, because I am not the kind and patient wife that I once was… Next topic.
Last Friday, I went to see the “Devil Wears Prada” sequel. In Teaneck. By myself. Four hours before the Sabbath began. This is what happens when you have an empty nest and are anti-social.
My thoughts on the movie — if they make a third one in another 20 years, Meryl Streep will be 96. I, too, God willing, will be 20 years older. Will there be a third one? Will I be alive to see it? Will Anne Hathaway still look the same and will Emily Blunt’s face look even stranger than it does in this movie? Yes, this is what I was thinking.
Another thing about the movie — there is a character who plays Anne Hathaway’s assistant who is wearing a pair of upside-down glasses. When I was in seventh grade, I had a really, really cool pair of Battlestar Galactica upside-down glasses. When I look back on those photos, they are not pleasant, and I do not know how Cohen’s Fashion Optical sold them. Or how I was allowed to buy them. But, in this movie, on this character, they look totally in fashion. Perhaps I was ahead of my time? I doubt it.
Anyway, the movie ends, and I am reading the credits and enjoying the music. I get up to leave and I see, by the exit, that a woman has fallen down.
The small crowd of people that has been at this movie gathered around her. I started asking her questions to see if her mental status was altered, I asked about wiggling her fingers and toes. Someone asked me if I was a doctor and my response was, “I am a doctor’s daughter, so I think I am a doctor.” Don’t worry, someone called 911 and real medical professionals did show up.
In any event, I started asking the woman on the floor what she thought of the movie and then I asked her what her name was. After she told me, I told her my name, and she looked up at me and said, “Banji? Banji? The one from the paper? I read your column every week, and it makes me laugh!”
I asked the woman lying on the floor if I could write about her this week, and she smiled and said, “Of course you can!”
So this one is for her. I hope you are feeling better and back at home, and so is the lovely psychologist who also told me that she enjoys my column.
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck really does hope that Husband #1 feels better soon.
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