They say - Ah, yes, the mysterious THEY again..who do you suppose THEY are? A group of highly intellegent green Aliens from some as-yet-undiscovered planet? That's my guess, anyway - that one of the biggest signs of old age is memory loss. Studies show - are these studies conducted by THEY again? You know, the aliens...- that one of the first things to go with old age is the short-term memory. This is why so many of the elderly will recount the same story from their youth over and over again, but can't tell you what they had for breakfast an hour after they consumed it.
The Devil Woman, however, seems to be losing her long-term memory with age.
Really, it's rather depressing. It makes me a bit sad to see someone who was once so spry now forget the most basic details. Things like directions to a beach we've been to several times in the past, or that she used the last of the coffee creamer, or that she turned the air conditioner down to stage-1-hypothermia again. She even forgets simple, meaningless things, like to ask if I want Starbucks or not, or that she just called me five minutes before.
But yesterday, yesterday just took the cake. Poor thing. *insert sympathetic sound here*
We're at work and DW is on the phone with...someone. I'm not sure who it was, and when I asked her about it later she...couldn't remember. Anyway, I'm having a phone conversation of my own when all of a sudden, DW gasps from her side of the office. I turn my head to make sure she hasn't stabbed herself with her butter knife -unfortunately, she was fine...what? That would have been mildly entertaining, admit it - and she yells, "You're going to be 27 this year?? TWENTY-SEVEN??"
I just stared at her. She's asking because, what? The woman DIDN'T give birth to me?? See, I've always said I was adopted into this family, now I know it's true.
Then today, she's on yet another phone call and says, "Spawn, what's my address?" and she's staring at me with that Deer-In-The-Headlights look. I said, "I don't know. What is your address?" I hear her say into the phone, "She doesn't know. Can you believe it?" Ok, because I live there? I think not. So I say, "What, like you have room to talk? You didn't know I was turning 27 this year and YOU GAVE BIRTH TO ME!"
She didn't say much after that.
Do you suppose when I get old like DW I'll forget The Girl's age? One can hope, right?
Review: Bayou Moon by Ilona Andrews
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