A Few Senior Moments in the Shower

This afternoon, after spending a number of hours house cleaning, I decided to take a shower and wash my hair.  I knew I had shampoo, but I didn’t have any conditioner, so I looked in the closet for a sample I had saved for just this occasion. It was a double packet, and it had notches, so all I had to do is tear it open once I was in the shower. Being an old person, I squinted until I could just barely read what was in each packet. I washed my hair as usual, but when I went to open the conditioner, no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it open. After many attempts, I started hollering, and my husband came to the rescue with a pair of scissors. I cut open the packet, and applied the conditioner (or so I thought). I got out of the shower, got dressed, and attempted to comb my hair. The comb stopped dead, and I discovered I had a rats nest. The knots were tremendous and no matter what I did, it just got worse. By this time, I was questioning just what I had put on my hair, and got my glasses and read the labels.  OK.  I applied shampoo and not conditioner. So I got back in the shower, rinsed my hair out, and applied my husband’s conditioner (or so I thought). Of course, I couldn’t read the label since I didn’t have my glasses. Got out of the shower, got dressed, and attempted to comb my hair again. Same as before. A rats nest. I started hollering and carrying on so much that my husband appeared once again to ask what the problem was. Red faced, I pointed to my hair. I pointed to what I had used. He looked at the bottle and quietly said that I had used shampoo. His conditioner was in the yellow bottle, not the white one. He said with a grin, “perhaps large numbers or letters on the bottles might help you in the future..”  I stood there speechless, helpless, sputtering. Then I laughed out loud and shook my head, realizing that I had brought the whole thing down upon myself. And why?  Because once again, I wouldn’t put my glasses on to read the label. You know, I have a friend who is going deaf, and won’t wear a hearing aid. For years, I’ve taunted him and told him how silly he was for not wearing one. I was tired of shouting at him. Guess I’ll have to call him up and retract my words, or at least give him a good laugh by telling him about my senior moments, even if it has to be in an elevated voice.