Old people are a menace.

by Stacey Graham

There. I said it.

My parents are in their mid-70s, one with advancing Parkinson's Disease but doing well and the other regularly lifted 80 lbs of chicken feed weekly for her crazy brood on her tiny farm. Since last Sunday was my birthday (and Father's Day), I received phone calls and made them as per the holiday.

Me: Happy Father's Day, Dad! What's new in the world of Parkinson's? (seriously, it started out like this)

Dad: I feel great. We're moving forward with a new therapy - the hyperbaric chamber. It will push oxygen into my brain to help it function better.

Me: So you'll essentially blow up like a frog in biology class?

Dad: That would be fun, but no.

Me: Can you text me while they're doing it?

Dad: No. But I'll hum.

Me: Hum?

Dad: Yes, it will keep my mind off of things. You know, like, being pumped full of oxygen. And now I'll be thinking of frogs.

Me: Sorry. Can you take photos while you're in there? I haven't seen a hyperbaric chamber before.

Dad: *sigh* No.

Me: You're no fun. Want to see the new tattoo I got for my birthday? I can text you so you have something to look at in the Chaaaaaaaamber.

Dad: No... Is it a frog?

Me: No. I'm just kidding. I got a nose piercing instead.

Dad: Good. Save the tattoo for when you hit fifty.

Me: Dad, Bev (sister) told me you like peanuts a lot lately.

Dad: Yeeeeess, why?

Me: I heard you should probably request a blue hearing aid next time too. They don't have the same crunch as a peanut but they are a bit more expensive. Just sayin'.

Dad: Shut up.

Me: What? I can't hear you? I'm enjoying a delicious snack of hearing aid peanuts.

Dad: [hangs up]

While on the phone with my Dad, my Mother called and left a voicemail:

Mom: Staaaacey? Can you wish Bryan (husband) a very happy Father's Day? I hope he has a wonderful day with his fabulous daughters - and you too. I don't want to use up all the tape on this message (tape? on a voicemail?) but I just wanted to tell him Happy Father's Day.

I'll be sure to tell him. Right after I call my shrink about how both parents forgot to wish me a happy birthday though they've both essentially spoken to me that day.

Callback to mom:

Me: Hey Mom. I told Bryan he's fabulous.

Mom: Thanks. Did you make him a cake? Men like cakes.

Me: Yes, Mom. Chocolate with strawberries. You know, how I like on my birthday.

Mom: Yes, well, about that...

Me: What?

Mom: I forgot to send your card with $5 in it.

Me: No problem, I'll bill you later.

Mom: Oh, you. And tell Bryan his is coming too.

Me: It's not his birthday.

Mom: I know. But I can't make him a cake and your skills are, well, in another direction.

Mom: Why are you humming?

Me: I'm thinking of frogs.

Mom: My children are weird.

I'm really not that odd in real life. No. Really. Don't mind the zombies, cupcakes and margaritas that make regular appearances in my blog. Speaking of the Undead, pick up today's dating tips and haiku at The Zombie Dating Guide!


  1. Explains where you got it from.

    Never change, Stacey. NEVA! ;)


  2. :roll: Very cute, very funny. And I'm loving your dad.

  3. Ah, messing with old people is fun ;) Happy birthday!

  4. Oh if only this wasn't a true story, my therapy bills would be much more managable.

  5. Just wait til you are forty; you reap what you sow.

    Your dad sounds like a hoot!

    Great writing, Stacey.

    Happy Birthday, btw.

  6. LOL! I turned 42 on Sunday, Jeanette. I'm sure it will bite me in the fanny any day no... OOH SHINY!

  7. Stace! You don't look 42 in the least. I think you're fibbing. Your dad sounds like a delight.

  8. 42 is the answer to everything, or so I was told last April.

    I heart your parents. My mom still doesn't get that whole voicemail versus answering machine thing, either. I have countless voicemails from her that say, "Carole. Carole? Carole, pick up! This is your mo-therrrrrrr! Hello? Hello? Carole Lee? . . . " Then again, she has trouble understanding the difference between a fax and email, too. Don't ask.


  9. They're both goofy and I love them to pieces. =]

  10. Love it--You talk to your parents like I always talked to mine! And now Dad can't shoot comebacks at me cause he's deaf as a post and can't hear a thing I say. He knows it's something smart, because, well, my lips are moving, but he can't do a thing about it. It's my pay it forward for when my kids do it to me if I ever get old.

  11. Too funny. My mom leaves the same messages on my voicemail that Carole's mom leaves her. I'm starting to get suspicious that maybe we actually have the same mom who just figured out the perfect way not to get our names wrong. ;)

  12. When my dad didn't want to hear all the rucus from the extended family, he'd take out his hearing aids and sing. Loudly.

    Thanks for the laugh, Stacey!


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.