WHEN DID "WE" BECOME "THEM"?

Eileen Cichello

When I was in my thirties, I was walking in Weedsport and this car pulls up near me. An elderly woman, probably about sixty, which I considered ancient in those days, opens the car door, shouts some pretty rude things to the elderly man at the wheel, slams the door and walks away.  The man guns the motor and drives away, gravel flying.

"Oh my God," I thought. "Doesn't this stop at some point? Don't people calm down when they age?" I had this delusion that my husband Sam and I would in time be really patient and understanding with each other.  I know better now and have decided that if we played out such a scene, I would want to be the driver sending the gravel flying.  This is not likely to happen since Sam suffers from the "I'm the driver here" male hormone.

Sam and I were grocery shopping together recently.  Do you remember seeing cartoons of elderly couples in heated conversations in the grocery store as they argue over what products to get and what prices to pay?

Now here were Sam and I, having the same debate over brand names and prices.  The only reason Sam was with me was because I was having problems with a leg.  It hurt to stand for any length of time, so I had asked Sam to come shopping with me so I could get it done quicker.

 Suffice it to say I have mastered the skill of getting the most bang for the buck in a grocery store, especially in the Weedsport Big M, my home away from home!

Now here was "the expert", debating many of my selections, wandering off to check out something on the other side of the store, of course taking the grocery cart and leaving me holding an armful of cans and standing on a bum leg, which was hurting a lot.

The scene got pretty ugly.  I said several things that I hoped the people in the next aisle didn't overhear. As we pulled into our driveway, Sam said to me, "You weren't very nice back there." 

"Don't you understand what just happened?" I asked in a whisper.

"What happened?  You just got nasty for no reason I can figure out," Sam replied.

"'We' have become 'them,'" I said.

Sam said "Huh?" and out of pity for the poor man, I said, "Oh, never mind."

If I have any say in it, we will not be in the grocery store together any time soon.  It falls into the same category as cooking together.  It brings out the devil in me.