“How are YOU?” I asked.
“Coming up on 100,” Maga said.
Her downtrodden tone led me to, perhaps overbrightly say, “But that’s super exciting!”
“It is big,” she agreed hesitantly. “But I try not to get too undone about it.”
“I think you’re allowed.”
“Have you done anything interesting in a playful way?” She abruptly changed the subject. I guess closing in on 100 has left her subtleties by the wayside.
“Nope. Not so much.” I, also not so subtly, gave her no leeway. But also, I haven’t done anything interesting lately…well, scratch that. Anything interesting that she’d understand. I DID happen to take 3rd place in Beer Olympics this past weekend, but considering I had to repeat myself ad nauseum up to this point, I didn’t feel up to the taste of explaining drinking games to her or the fact I’m 38, unmarried, and sans children. (Not unhappily BTW but that’s another explanation I wasn’t up to either.)
“How long have you been at your job?” Maga tried again to engage me.
“12 years.”
“Wow.”
“Why’s that?”
“That’s an awfully long time.”
“I’m a stable girl.”
I wanted to point her in the direction of the previous comment where I’d done nothing “of interest in a playful way” lately…stability = boring = not much to discuss on a Tuesday night. When you’ve lived close to 100 years, I guess you’re entitled to expect everyone else provide entertainment, but when you’re only close to 40, you have to provide your own entertainment, and since I haven’t been doing that in a manner appropriate for a 98yo to hear about, it left us in a rather boring loop. One I could only get out of by promising her I’d see her in less than a month for her 98th birthday. Hopefully that weekend we’ll both live life to the fullest so we can regal each other with (the same) tales.
Abigail Mumford 