The Sweet Smell of Oldness

To put this post into context, here’s a conversation between Greg and me (uncensored because otherwise what fun would it be?) …

Me: I think I have kneecap cancer.

Greg: Yup.

Me: What do you mean “yup”. This could be SERIOUS.

Greg: Just like your eyeball cancer, lip cancer, and pinkie toe cancer, this too will pass. Do you even listen to yourself?

Me: Why would I listen to myself? That would be like talking to myself. Everybody knows that only creepy people talk to themselves.

Greg: Yup

Me: I HATE IT WHEN YOU END A CONVERSATION WITH “YUP”.

Greg: You DO talk to yourself.

Me: Only when I’m writing. I have to. I need to hear how things sound out loud.

Greg: Yup.

At this point I just walked away from the conversation. Now that you have a little bit of background on my current ailment – my kneecap cancer – I need you to know, awesome readers, that this excruciating knee pain has NOTHING to do with my age. I know this because I’ve been having on-again/off-again knee pain since I was in my 20s. (Which is almost like saying that I had knee pain last year. In a 25^th-Anniversary-of-my-25^th-Birthday kind of way.)

Then last night while I was hopping around my mother’s house like a drunken kangaroo (I was NOT drinking at the time. Almost.), my mother gave me some spray stuff.

My mom: Here, dear. This will help your arthritis.

Me: I DON’T HAVE ARTHRITIS. OLD PEOPLE HAVE ARTHRITIS.

At which point I walked away from that conversation too.

I can’t really tell you the name of the “stuff” my mom gave me. Mostly because I don’t remember what it’s called but also because it didn’t work and I don’t want you to spend your money on a product that doesn’t work. Unless if your intention is to smell like an old person. Then it totally works.

This post first appeared on Mona Andrei’s personal blog, Moxie-Dude.