Due to my family history, I’ve always joked about getting Alzheimer’s. My husband V—who has a vested interest in keeping my brain from deteriorating–was hoping my blog would benefit me by keeping my memory sharper. Today he told me he’s dismayed that since I started blogging, I seem to be getting not better, but worse.
And I think he’s right.
One example is something that happened last week. It was the middle of the day and I was home alone, absorbed at the computer, when I heard a noise on the other side of the house. One sound–that was it–loud enough to carry across several rooms. Usually when I hear a noise like that, it’s the cat–but she was asleep on my lap at the time.
So I got up and went to the other side of the house to investigate. As I walked towards the kitchen, I could see a pot sitting on top of the stove, and I suddenly remembered that I had started to boil some eggs. Maybe 45 minutes ago. Oops.
By now of course there was no water in the pot and all the eggs were burnt and so was the bottom of the pot. And the noise I had heard—this is pretty embarrassing–was the sound of an egg that had actually exploded and landed on the floor of the kitchen.
Did you know eggs could do such a thing? Not only explode, but leap out of a pot? I never knew that.
(I’m thinking maybe they should put something on the side of egg cartons like they put on packs of cigarettes. Like “Warning: Explosive Material.”)
I do have enough memory left to remember what happened with the eggs. So today, when I was about to boil eggs again, I set the kitchen timer. And I went back to the computer.
A half hour later, V comes in. He tells me, “You almost had another explosion.”
‘What do you mean?” I look up from the computer. “I set the timer.”
He shakes his head. “It went off ten minutes ago.”
Just great. In addition to getting senile, I’m also getting deaf.