Just Wait Kid

Just wait kid,” my father muttered.   The first time he said it I was 10, having finally beaten him in our weekly sidewalk race.  Flushed with victory, I laughed gleefully as he doubled over panting and rubbing his knees.

He said it again when I was caught jumping off a roof, leaping between tree branches and over a fence.  When I chuckled after he pulled up lame at the annual family reunion, trying to stretch a single into a double.  When I stubbornly plowed into over-sized alpha males, still dreaming of being a high school halfback.  When I laughingly teased him about being an old man as his back kept him bedridden for a week.  If he said it once, he said it a thousand times; I always laughed at the thought of age waiting in ambush.

In the 30 something years there were little hints of what dad meant, saying through gritted teeth “just wait kid.”  Muscles that didn’t instantaneously do my bidding.  Joints that buckled or swelled because of misstep or overuse.  Not so bad I thought.  It’s merely a matter of adapting.

The little hints became lessons when, despite stretching and caution, the elbow, ankle or knee wouldn’t work the next day.  Still; it wasn’t so bad, a man has to know his limitations, that there are some things he just can’t do much of anymore.  It became more irritating when there was no apparent cause - the back or a joint simply wasn’t moving anytime soon.  In a day or two, sometimes a week, function would return.  Could be worse.

Then came the nose and ear hair.  Huge tufts sprouting in bushy clumps like weeds. Again, not so bad; long gone were the days of a sweetie running the tip of her tongue in my ear. Trimming and whirring out unsightly growth was merely another unwelcome chore.

A more troublesome aspect of aging appeared next.  Sound sleep, dreams and snores were interrupted by a half dozen trips to pee.  Soon, even the days became an adventure.  All of a sudden there was a 20 second time lag between feeling the need to urinate and pissing one’s pants.  Oh, it could be worse – one makes preventative stops. And makes sure to not be caught out of range of a bathroom or bush.

Oh yes, “just wait kid” is a phrase that eventually takes on real meaning.  You think you know how much, limping and trying to straighten out as you drag body parts around to start each morning.  As you gingerly go up and down steps, rubbing your knee.  As you groan getting up from a chair.  As you grab your back and grunt after picking up your granddaughter.  Then you discover children are absolutely perfect mimics at the age of 2 and 1/2.  This is how one gets up and walks isn’t it?  Aren’t these the required sound affects?

It’s disconcerting to see every painstaking shuffle and moan impeccably duplicated.  Still, it can be amusing.  Perhaps not as hilarious as family, friends and neighbors think, doubling over and having laughing fits.  But funny nonetheless.

Then, just when you think you’ve weathered the storm of the aging process.  Just when you think there’s little left besides the ravishment of Alzheimer [as you hope and pray for blissful ignorance].  Along comes gas!  No, not flatulence thankfully.  Just stuff that builds up in sore, weak or tender areas of your neck, back, chest or limbs.  Touch it and a belch like sound comes out the mouth.  In fact, you must touch and massage it to relieve the soreness and tenderness.  So … press, rub and bend sideways – belllllllllllllllllllllch.

With age a man becomes less self-conscious.  Graying hair, wrinkles, sagging flesh – well… one sucks in the tummy occasionally, but concern is a lost cause.  Still; one tries to hide the remedy for gas.  Even so, it becomes ingrained as a means of relieving body aches.  You just do it discretely and surreptitiously.

Press, rub and bend sideways.  Discretely.  Surreptitiously.  Bellllllch.  No one will notice will they? The grandkid will.  Watch her do it.  Press, rub and bend sideways… belllllllllllllllllllllllch!  Just wait kid.


PawPawJack©9/8/10