Oreo Cookies...

When I was at the check-out counter at Walgreens the other day buying shampoo and cards and stuff, a man came up and put his items down on the counter to be served next. Instinctively, I looked down to see what he was buying. I was intrigued by his choices. He had a package of double-stuff Oreo cookies and an economy size box of condoms. That's it. Nothing else. No wine (although not possible in our state - Walgreens doesn't sell liquor), no lube, no flowers, no musk cologne. Nothing. Just Oreos and condoms.

I immediately began to wonder what he had in store for himself that evening. Did he know his partner so well that he knew that foreplay for her was a package of double-stuff Oreos? Was there some sort of unknown aphrodisiac in Oreos that warranted the economy size box of condoms? Would he be getting lucky for hours on end? Were Oreo cookies the poor-man's equivalent of Viagra? Perhaps they were for him and not for her?

Or perhaps he was going to attend an orgy/potluck dinner that evening? And perhaps he was running late and didn't have time to bake his famous chocolate chip brownies; but he knew that all the participating women loved oreo cookies so he substituted that instead. That would explain the economy-sized box of condoms.

But then I was back to my original thought about him getting lucky with his lady and foreplay consisting of a package of oreos. What a mess with all those cookie crumbs getting stuck in various crevices! And then having to change the sheets immediately after due to the crumbs so ants would not migrate and set up new colonies in the bed. Goodness! How do you manage the wet spot?!? Yuck! And then I pondered when does a woman start to desire a package of Oreos as her aphrodisiac rather than a bottle of wine? And then I said a quick prayer to every heavenly body I could think of that there would be a big, flashing, neon warning sign if I ever started to get aroused after eating Oreos. I even asked them to also blow a fog horn at me (in case I was so blinded by the afterglow of the Oreos), so I could turn quickly and run in the opposite direction. I also said a little prayer of thanks that at least there were two souls who were going to be having a little 'happiness' that night. It didn't really matter what the means were to achieve the end.

However, I can no longer look at Oreo cookies with the same innocence I once had. And I will be very, very suspect of any date who shows up with a package of them....

Forgetfulness... I've got it bad.

"Can you hear me?" I asked my youngest as I struggled to hear him through the crackling of the cell phone connection.
"Yes" he replied.
"Good. Did you get all your homework done?" I inquired.
"Moh-om it's the weekend."
"I know it's the weekend. I just wanted to make sure if you did have any homework that you got it done," I continued.
"Tomorrow is Monday, Mom" he said in his exasperated six-year old voice. "I won't have any homework till after school tomorrow"
"Honey, I know tomorrow is Monday. I just wanted to know if you had any homework over the weekend."
"Geez Mom, remember, I just told you tomorrow is Monday?" I could see his little eyebrows raising and his eyes getting wide at me driving home his point through the cell phone.
"Yes William I know tomorrow is Monday. I guess you didn't have any homework to do over the weekend then?"
"No and tomorrow is Monday," he paused. "You know Mom you really have a hard time keeping track of things don't you?"
Trying not to laugh out loud at his insightful (although not entirely accurate to this conversation) statement, I responded, "Well yes you are right. Thankfully I have you to help me remember things."
"Yep you sure do." He replied smugly.

I admit it. I do have a hard time keeping track of things. Is it because I'm over 40 now? Perhaps. Is it because I am raising three children by myself? Perhaps. Is it because I drank too much beer/wine/rum/tequila/vodka in my 20s and 30s? Perhaps. Is it because I find myself easily distracted by other things instead of what I should be concentrating on? Perhaps. Is it a combination of all these things? Perhaps. And perhaps even more.

I don't know.

I try to stay 'on top of things' with a daily planner, a calendar posted in the kitchen, calendars on two computers, post-it notes to myself, voicemail messages left for myself at the office or home and recently my daughter has started to text message me reminders. However even with all this 'help', there are times when I just forget. Even when I get into the minivan, I have to remind myself 3 and 4 times before I have exited the driveway, where exactly I am going on that trip.

It used to really bother me if I forgot something. I would berate myself and feel stupid for not remembering and mentally kick myself in the ass while apologizing profusely. However, now (and I guess this is a result of aging and wisdom), I simply apologize to whomever was slighted by my forgetfulness, shrug my shoulders and mark through that entry on every calendar with a big, black Sharpie knowing that this won't be the last time I forget something so it's no use getting upset. It's just my life.