Signs of aging.

The other day, I started to take stock of my life, what just doesn’t work the same as it used to. 
It got pretty funny after the first couple of minutes.
There was a moment that started it all, and I will get to it, I always do; but bear with me as I list the other signs of my aging.
Our neighbor’s daughter has a boyfriend (a punk kid really), who likes to boom.
(For those of you who are deeper in the aging process than I am, that is when you have some major sub-woofers in your car, and you listen to your bass-driven music loudly.)
I am so annoyed by it!  During the day, he’ll show up, I’ll check to see if he’s smoking pot again, so I can call the Sheriff, again..  at least he lets me know he’s there, right?
Even more annoying is when he shows up late at night with the daughter, and they sit out in the driveway.
And boom.
I went on for awhile about it one night to Merrill, telling him I was going to call the Sheriff.  Then I looked at the clock to see that it wasn’t even 10 pm yet.
Old, old lady I am…
Then there’s the kicker..
It wasn’t too long ago, that was me and Merrill.
(Well, all of that except the illegal drug part.)
Even during the daytime, when I hear somebody booming down the street in front of my house, I have to rush to the nearest window to “tsk” at them for a minute.
Whipper-snappers.
Somehow I know when it is Merrill (cause he can boom now), and not one of those whipper-snappers.  Usually it’s because I hear with the booming, the accompanying sound of the garage door opening.
I have began using the sayings that my parents would.  Things they would say when we would stand with the front door open, conversing with a friend.
“Shut the door!  You are heating/cooling the whole neighborhood!  When you pay for the electric/gas bill, then you can do that.”
Or one of my favorites, especially this wintry time of the year is when they stand with the fridge or freezer open, trying to decide what to nosh on.
“Shut that!  Decide what you want to eat out of there before you stand there with the door open, cooling off the house and making the furnace work harder than it needs to…”
While we are on the subject of what our parents did..
I am the light nazi.  I go turning off lights that are completely unnecessary.  When I turn around and see it on again just two minutes later, there are usually some stern words expressed.
Then there’s the food not eaten, left on the plate routine.
I could go on.
The one that really got me though the other day, was when I was cleaning.
What does this look like to you, my dear friends?

Please tell me that you think is is smooshed, melted chocolate with a hair on it like I do….
(Just say it to make me feel good, kay?)
Well, that is what I thought it was..
I scrubbed at the thing with the steam mop far too long.  It wasn’t even shrinking!!  So I gave in, got down on my hands and knees (like a sucker) to more closely inspect.

It is not chocolate.
It isn’t a hair either.
Just a burn mark, maybe a small knot in the wood.
I clearly need to wear my reading glasses now while I clean.
Oh, and tomato soup gives me heartburn.