My mind is going. Many of you are probably thinking, no kidding asshat. I seriously get lost half the time I get into the car (and call Husband, Gwen, Jane or Wendy to navigate me where I need to go via phone). The reason I have nicknames for my kids is because nicknames are interchangeable and I keep forgetting their real names. Worst of all, words escape me every day which leads to conversations like this:
Me: You know, that actress! With the big hair. And the big boobs? C’mon, you know (hand gestures indicating big hair and boobs).
Husband: I have no idea who you are talking about.
Me: Whatever. Hand me that… that… Ugh! That thing there.
Husband: The spoon?
Me: Yes! That’s it. Thanks. Ugh. You know, I used to be funny. I used to have a personality. Now I can’t find my way home from the store or remember the name of a damned spoon. How can you still live with me now that I am so old and un-funny?
Husband: Oh, you’re still funny… Just not on purpose.
Awesome. Thanks, Asshat. Or whatever your name is.