I Screen, You Screen?

        We finally got one of those wonderful, retractable screen doors! You’ve probably seen them-- they roll up and stow on the side of the door. It lets you keep the patio door open so you can enjoy the nice breeze without flies or mosquitoes getting in. Here's an example of one: 

          EXCEPT… it’s been way too hot to enjoy a breeze, unless you like the temperatures of an inferno.

         BUT EVEN WORSE… you can’t see the screen. At least I can’t. And our dog can’t. So, possibly similar IQs are in sync here.  We tried to leave just the screen closed on three occasions and here’s what happened.

1.       Joni charges right into the screen and nearly busts through, but luckily doesn’t break it.

2.      St. Bob puts a small 3x5 card in the frame so she’ll notice it.

3.       She doesn’t.  She crashes into the screen anyway.

4.       Now Bob puts a full sheet of paper in the frame and finally she sees it.

5.      But this, like a decal, blocks the lovely view, doesn't it? So Joni takes the paper out.

6.       She crashes into the screen again that evening.

Mind you, our dog is doing the same thing.

Fortunately, we’ve had temperatures over 100 lately, so the screen is rolled up, safe once again.

Avoid similar disasters by sitting still at your computer and watching my Youtube Mom life hack videos!

Invisible Ink?

           St. Bob and I finally got both of our vaccine shots. And at my second appointment, the nurse said, “Don’t laminate your card because a lot of people are finding that it makes the ink disappear.”

          WHAT?  So, wouldn’t the problem be YOUR INK?  Documents are laminated all the time and I’ve never heard of it causing this particular calamity.

          Remember when we were little and we’d write a secret message in lemon juice, then hold it over a candle flame?  If your paper didn’t catch on fire, you could read the message, slowly appearing in brown lettering. Too bad little kids don’t have valuable secrets that can prevent espionage. But it was still fun.

          And now it’s going in reverse. And none of us want to go through getting vaccinated again, just because our record vanished. A friend of mine said the real reason not to laminate is because you might need a booster shot written on there someday. Okay, at least that makes sense. Maybe they should just write everything in lemon juice.

I promise the ink in my books won’t vanish before you can read them all.

My Cloak of Invisibility

          I have a cloak of invisibility.  Yes, I know you think only Harry Potter has one, given to him by Dumbledore with the admonition, “use it well.”  But I have one I wear nearly every time I go out.  Perhaps you have it, too.

          It’s called Being Over 40.  You actually get a glimpse of this when you’re young and have a baby in a stroller.  You go to the mall, let’s say, and no teenager can see you, whatsoever. Even if you were cute just three years ago. Their eyes may fall upon you, but those eyes just keep scanning the crowd, because you have fallen off the cliff of People Who Matter.  At least to teenagers.

          And this is but a harbinger of what is to come. After 40 you become sufficiently invisible enough to, conceivably, rob a bank. Without a disguise. If, let’s say, that bank employed only people in their twenties. You have virtually entered Geezerdom and are no longer noteworthy.  Or glanceworthy. 

          To get help in a store, you must track down an employee (often running to catch them), and beg for assistance.  They help you for only as long as they can manage it, before returning to their important customers.

          The invisibility cloak gets thicker with every passing year, until you are treated with amusement, like a friendly apparition. Your opinions are not sought,  your comments are not heard, and your presence is not acknowledged.

          And at first this feels unkind, even disrespectful.  BUT… as with many a dark cloud, it has a silver lining.  You can smooch with your husband in a public place, and people will simply look away.  You can giggle at greeting cards and no one stares.  You can stumble around with zero embarrassment, because no one is watching you.  You can order a triple scoop of ice cream.  

          You can say, “No, I don’t think so,” and not feel you must provide reasons.  You can wear the purple sweater with the green pants.  You can break into song.  And it’s all ignored by the general public.

          So not only do I have a cloak of invisibility, but it’s a silver one.  Coolio.

You can also read as many books as you like, and take all the time you wish.  Might I suggest these for Mother’s Day?