Sunday, December 8, 2013

Memories, or Lack Thereof

Yesterday was my birthday.  I celebrated by forgetting something.  It's just what I do.

The family of our beloved baby sitter Hannah kindly invited our children over to make cookies and do other fun things.  (I have no idea what those fun things were; I tend not to ask too many questions when people volunteer to watch our kids.  Parenting at its finest, friends.)  The plan was then for Hannah to take our kiddos back to our house, feed them and put them to bed.  Great.  Super.  Whatever.  As long as I'm not there having to help.

But as it turns out, a key is required to unlock doors that have been locked.  This would have been helpful information to remember after I left the house and locked the front door and before we dropped our children off but not our house key.

You should have seen Derek's face when he got the text from Hannah's mom about the lack of a house key.  (The text went to Derek's phone because my phone was, of course, dead as a doornail.  I also forgot to charge my phone.  Are you sensing a trend here?  No?  Just wait.  I'll hammer that point home before this post is over.)  It was a bit of a cross between mild surprise and grim resignation.  I'm pretty sure there was a sigh in there, too.

It's not like this has ever been a secret in our relationship.  A few days before we were married, we drove 45 minutes south, crossing the state line to visit the courthouse in the county our wedding was taking place to apply for the marriage license.  Upon arrival, I realized I had forgotten the letter from our pastor stating we had completed a premarital course.  (That's right:  The state of Oklahoma gives you a discount on your marriage license if you go through some kind of premarital advisement, course, or counseling.  Bravo, Oklahoma.)  Fortunately, I was able to call the church office (where they know me well enough to know that if we're talking memory work or an academic test, well, I'm your gal!  If you want something that's actually useful to everyday life, I'm one very small step up from worthless), and they were kind enough to fax a copy of the letter straight into the office there at the courthouse.

Then, just to make sure Derek knew what he was getting himself into, on our wedding day I forgot the marriage license at my mom's house- again, 45 minutes away- didn't realize it until after the ceremony when it was time to sign it, and a very kind guest drove to my mom's house and back to the wedding so we could sign it and, you know, legally be married.

His reaction was a little more pronounced all those years ago.  Not terrible, but not just a simple sigh and shaking of his head.

I wonder if it will even register when I forget something important in another ten years?  And what are we going to do if I ever develop dementia?  It's gonna take forever for him to differentiate between the red flags of the disease and my normal quirks.

I'm pretty sure I meant to go somewhere else with this post, but I've forgotten just where that was.  How peculiar.

P.S.  What's a doornail?  Seriously?


  1. Not to delight in your memory loss, but yay! I forget things on an hourly basis. I try to keep it under wraps just how much I'm forgetting and how much I need to write things down in order to not forget. What if Chris thinks I'm crazy?? Well, that probably wouldn't be the first time he's thought that.

    It took me several times to guess the security characters at the bottom. Am I a robot?

  2. Happy birthday!

    Since a doornail is dead, you can safely forget about it.

  3. Happy birthday! (That is, if you remember it was your birthday yesterday . . . )

    As Dickens pointed out, it should "coffin nail".

  4. Happy one-day-after-your-birthday! (That's the fourth time I've written that today, so you are clearly not the only one with a memory problem.)

  5. I love the almost daily conversations we have "I can't find my keys/purse/shoes/gloves."
    Don't tell Kristy but I now tell her we need to leave 10-15 minutes before we actually need to leave.

  6. Hmmm, perhaps I'm just being defensive as this post hits a little too close to home, but was Derek part of the "we" who dropped the children off? And if so, was it really your sole responsibility to remember to leave them a key? Just sayin'. . .'cuz our hubbies chose to marry us, so they have to remember we are a team and we must balance our strengths and weaknesses. :)

    1. Derek would be just as likely to remind to breathe or blink; he forgets almost nothing, and has trouble fathoming just how someone could forget such important things. He was out in the car while I went in to drop the kids off, and for him it was just a given I'd remember the key, just like I remembered to leave our three children.

      I see lots of husbands that leave the bulk of parenting responsibilities to their wives- rest assured that is not Derek, in any way, shape, or form. He's a very involved and hands-on kind of husband and father... even if he doesn't remind me to leave the key. And to bring my wallet to the grocery store. And to make whatever treat the kids have to bring to school that day.

    2. Chuckle, I didn't figure he was, your posts make it obvious he's an involved father. I'm just thinking, you know, assuming you wouldn't think about such a trivial matter as dropping off a key while you're helping your kiddos get their coats and boots off and happily settled in a different house. . .well, he just might need to walk to the door for the express purpose of handing off the key. ;)

      That would be Alan. He would walk to the door just for that purpose, knowing the thought would never enter my mind. Maybe it's the 21 years of marriage. . .you're a few years behind us. ;)


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