Verdict: I’m officially old.
Proof: Yesterday, I went to the grocery store with only three needs: toilet paper, ziploc bags, and dish soap.
Thoughts on toilet paper: You know you’re old when you tote a twelve pack of soft Scott toilet paper through Wal-mart, and no longer care what people think. Somehow in high school, one gets this warped assumption that NO ONE uses toilet paper and if you EVER found yourself coerced into purchasing either that OR feminine products, the world had officially ended. I can remember the embarrassment of grabbing ‘the goods’ and hiding them as best as I could, quickly scanning the aisles making sure anyone who could possibly see me purchasing such hideous paraphernalia was either old, blind, or already had their own Metamucil in hand. J If there happened to be someone remotely good-looking or a young cashier, I’d scour the store for another available check out. This would ONLY be the case if the TP was purchased prior to 10 o’clock at night. After that time, the cashier could only assume that you’re tepeeing/wrapping a house, and then it suddenly became cool?!?!?! I’m glad that I can now buy toilet paper, regardless of the time of day, and feel no shame. Oh, the teenage days…
Ziploc bags: When you know to be careful about the ones you buy because you’ve accidentally purchased the ole’ snack-size bags by mistake a hundred times already (because they look to be the better deal until you get home and realize they only fit one hot dog inside them), it’s official: YOU’RE OLD!!!
Dish soap: When you stand in the soap aisle smelling all the available scents and figuring the cheapest cost per ounce, it’s official, you’ve reached old-dom. When you start debating with yourself whether it’s best to buy the Aromatherapy, Anti-Stress, Complete, Gentle, Blossomy, With or Without Bleach, Organic, ‘Green’, Fruity, With or Without Moisture Beads, Gentle-on-Hands, Concentrated, Original Formula, Grease-Cutting, Anti-oxidizing, or Antibacterial, and you care in the least, It’s time to face the fact: YOU’RE OLD.
To succumb even further to my feelings of old-ness, I had to call for help at the U-Scan. Only aged 70+ people do that. To my young-at-heart credit, though, the machine continued to eat my ten dollar bill and sounded like it was sick and about to die.
Consolation prize: #1 At least I still feel young at heart. #2 At least I’ve bought toilet paper to tepee a house since my adult days (Am I cool, or what?!!?) #3 At least I can now store more than one hot dog at a time. #4 At least all my dishes are clean.
Happy Monday!
