Why do old people say this? Really? My grandpa used to say this all the time. And I always think what's the alternative? Death? Hmmm...I think I'm going to go with the getting old. Because no matter how bad it sucks it's got to be better then dying. Or sometimes, I just want to shout "WHAT??! I had the choice to stay young and not age?? WTF? Why didn't I get the memo?! Did you get the memo. Flip! Did anyone get the memo?!" Or really, if getting old sucks that badly, that death is preferable, can you tell me what age it started sucking at? You know, so I can plan my demise. I mean like was it 50? 65? 39? Wait...I am 39! No! I don't want to die! I want to get old!!! If only so I can say "don't get old" to my kids and grandkids and totally confuse them too.
Of course, as we were reminiscing today, this is the same man who used to order a BLT but he didn't want any L and could he have the T on the side? So basically he wanted a bacon sandwich with sliced tomato on the side. But he never said it that way.
And every time we went to Village Inn, he'd lean over and ask my dad if they had Bud Light there. And every time my dad would explain that they didn't serve alcohol at Village Inn. Mostly because pancakes and beer would be totally gross, I'm sure.
And one time we went to this really fancy restaurant and grandpa broke the toilet in the men's room and water started leaking out onto the carpet in the hall and my dad made us hurry up and leave. And as he was paying the bill, the bartender was totally bitching about how it was a Sunday and they had to call the plumber and pay him double time and the carpet would probably be ruined, while we all stood around trying to look innocent and I had my hand over Sean's mouth because he was 4 and couldn't be trusted not to blurt out that it was grandpa. I don't know how innocent you can look when you have your hand over a kids mouth but I tried.
And how he could make the best gravy ever, even though he was shitfaced and paying no attention to it. The man was talented that way.
And how he called me his angel, even though my husband says I'm nobody's idea of an angel and he's pretty sure that angels do not run to the gas station to buy beer and cigarettes for old people. Even though they're in a wheelchair. But I did.
And how the doctors told him he had 5 different kinds of cancer and 6 months to live and he refused treatment, told everyone the doctors were wrong and he didn't have cancer, took a Bayer aspirin everyday, ate bacon and tomato sandwiches every morning, drank like a fish, smoked like a chimney and lived another 3 years. And in the end, it wasn't even the cancer that killed him.
He used to frustrate me to no end, act like an ass every time I took him to the doctor, and drunk dial me at least once a day but I miss his crazy ass anyway. So cheers grandpa. Wherever you ended up, I hope to hell they serve bud light and bacon sandwiches.