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My intelligence leak
I realized this morning what has happened to my memory. I have an intelligence leak. I've come to realize that every time I sneeze, I lose a little bit of my intelligence. I never thought I'd be one of those women who says, "Achoouh oh!" Yet here I am. I may need to buy a case of panty liners-- otherwise known as intelligence catchers. Don't even try to talk me into fancy, flowered underwear advertised on TV. I am an intelligent woman!
When I had a bout of bronchitis, I had intelligence leaks every time I coughed. Basically, I had the intelligence of a Cocker Spaniel. Maybe the dog had a higher IQ with all the coughing and "Uh-Oh" I was doing. It's not bad enough to feel like your ribs are going to break from all that hacking, and then "Uh-Oh," an intelligence leak comes along. It's like an added bonus, only differentvery different.
It makes me feel like I'm an old woman. Next thing you know I'll be like my Gram wearing knee highs tied in a knot just below my knee cap. Big, bulky, black orthopedic shoes will follow. I may even sport a hairnet. A flowered, cotton dress wardrobe with buttons down the front will be coming soon. I will also need a purse to carry tissues and more I.S. (Intelligence Savers) protection. Throw in a tube of red lipstick and I will be one hot mama who is always on her way to the ladies' room.
My mom always proclaimed, "These are the best days of your life!" She said that at every stage of my life. If the kids covered their bellies with peanut butter and feathers, she'd say, "Best days of your life!" When I thought I was growing a mustache with my sprouting hormones, "Best days of your life!" she said. I remember calling her to complain about my teen's snarky attitude. Once again, "Best days of your life." She stuck to her mantra. She would find a nice thing to say about my leaking intelligence. I know she would.
I used to wonder how she could even think they were the best days of my life. They seemed like horrid times to me in the moment. She never wavered. And now I know.
Intelligence leaks must be hereditary!
-Anne Bardsley
Anne Bardsley lives in St Petersburg, Florida, with her "wrinkle maker" of a husband and two spoiled cockatoos. She's still recovering from raising five children. She is so happy she didn't strangle them as teenagers as they've given her beautiful grandchildren. She is the author ofHow I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and MenopauseandAngel Bumps. She blogs atwww.annebardsley.com.