Out of Touch

I was playing volleyball with a few girls one night. They are in high school. We always have at least two girls with names that are the same.

So as we were playing, there were two girls on the same team with the name of J. Hall and J. Smith. People would call out their first name and confusion would ensue. Which doesn't usually lead to many points or a winning game.

Finally, J. Hall says to J. Smith, "We should come up with some nicknames so we won't get confused." And I in my infinite wisdom, butted in and said, "You (J. Hall) could be Hall, and you (J. Smith) could be Oates."

And they both looked at me expectantly, but cluelessly.

At which point I realized.

I am old.

Creak

I have a great, very firm, mattress on my bed. The bed is close to 10 years old. I should obviously be used to it by now.

But, a year or two ago, we put a memory foam topper on top of it. I don't remember why. It didn't really affect me, or so I thought.

Last week, after taking off my electric mattress pad, I also took off the topper. It makes the mattress so thick that I have ripped the seams out of my fitted sheets.

That night, I noticed how hard my mattress felt. And the next morning, my shoulders, hips and neck all complained that I slept on a sheet of rock. They are a whiny bunch.

I told my husband how sore I was and his answer was, "Ha. Ha. You're getting old. Put the topper back on." To which I replied, "Uh. No." My stubbornness has made for a few sore mornings, but I'm getting used to it again.

I WILL not succumb to old people comforts until I have to. And although I have given up on some things. This will not be one. At least not this week.