My wife’s mother, Betty, frets about her memory; I quizz Betty, hoping to convince her that she has all her marbles.
Jaron: How are we feeling today?
Betty: We? I don’t know about you but at 99 –I don’t need to remind you it’s really 99 and seven months — BRAIN FOG will be the death of me.
Jaron: We’ll get you some fog lights.
Betty: And, maybe you should develop a bit more compassion. I CAN’T REMEMBER A DAMN THING.
Jaron: How many daughters do you have?
Betty: Two.
Jaron: Exactly. And how many times have they been married?
Betty: Twice each. The oldest one had two practice husbands. Your wife only had one. You are what’s left of the four.
Jaron: So that would make me your best son-in-law.
Betty: Duh. You’re the only husband that’s left. So I could say you’re also the worst.
Jaron: And how many husbands did you have?
Betty. One. In my day one was enough. And, sometimes it was too many. Harry and I loved each other.
Jaron: And how long has he been gone?
Betty: Ten years and there is not a day I don’t think of him.
Jaron: It doesn’t sound like you have brain fog to me.
Betty: Things that happened decades ago I remember. My short term memory is burned out. Brain fog.
Jaron: What did you eat yesterday?
Betty: Some pasta and soup. It was tasty. Just the right amount of salt.
Jaron: Your short term memory seems fine.
Betty: I’ve been knocking back pasta and soup for the last 90 years. When I say I have brain fog that means I can’t remember new experiences.
Jaron: That makes sense.
Betty: Do you come by to confuse and taunt me because I’m almost 100?
Jaron: I came by to pick up the $75 you borrowed from me last Friday.
Betty: What did I borrow the money for?
Jaron: Beats me. You wanted the money so I gave it to you. It was about two pm, Friday, after lunch. I gave you a fifty. A twenty and a five. All new bills.
Betty: I don’t remember that.
Jaron: Well, I happen to have a selfie of you getting the money.
Betty: Let’s see that selfie.
Jaron: I don’t have my phone with me. Just give me the money.
Betty: I never borrowed jack sh*t from you.
Jaron: Your word against mine. I don’t have brain fog.
Betty: No room for fog between your ears. Too many idiot cells.
Jaron: Not a nice way to talk to your favorite son-in-law.
Betty: Your assessment, not mine. Stop hustling me. I never borrowed any $75 from you, did I?
Jaron: No.
Betty: No what? Explain.
Jaron: I made up the $75 to illustrate that your short term memory is fine. You remembered I didn’t get the money.
Betty: You’re committing elder FRAUD.
Jaron: By acting like you have brain fog, you’re probably committing a “medical felony.”
Betty: I WANT to have brain fog. I long to forget things. Like how pretty I was. They said I was beautiful. Look at me. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t walk. Time for you to go.
Jaron: OK.
Betty: Kiss me goodbye.
I did.
Betty: Scram before I report you to the brain fog authorities.
and five months ago. In 1921 ….
