My comfy jeans shrunk

Like almost everyone else, I have a pair of well worn, comfy jeans. This treasured old pair usually cradles my legs and butt in relaxing softness; they have grounded me during the multitude of emergency room visits for my kiddos, the many weekend trips to New Hampshire, the bargain shopping at the Outlets, church services, going to the movies with my friends and, especially, lounging around the house. For some odd reason, when I donned my comfy jeans yesterday, they were too small! My comfy jeans had shrunk! It was odd that they would shrink after maintaining their shape for more than 20 years. I reminded myself to check the washing machine to make sure it was still on “cold” water and hadn’t been inadvertently switched to “hot.” That could be the only reason my comfy jeans no longer fit.

“These days” is a phrase my mom used to say often, and now that I am older, its meaning hits home. These days people seem to mumble a lot. I first noticed it at the drive-thru when that stupid little speaker seemed to spit out crackling instead of a voice. I learned to watch the monitor to see if my order was correct rather than rely on the attendant to confirm. Next, I noticed it at stores. Possibly it is the younger working crowd that mutters unclearly and I find myself nodding yes and smiling, all the while having no clue to the actual question. I also cannot hear the sweet, soft voices of my grandchildren because they are very small and their voices also tiny. Hubby complains I never listen to him, but the truth is he, too, mumbles. How can I hear him when he sounds like he is talking underwater?

These days the print seems to be so much smaller than previously noted. I suppose it has shrunk in order to make room for more words, which makes sense, but it has often shrunken so much that I am unable to read it. This is also true for price tags. Gee, if a retailer wants to sell an item, one would think they would want to make the price visible to their buyers. As I am ever the bargain hunter, if a price is not clearly visible, I will not purchase it lest it be too expensive.

They also do not make things as aromatic as they used to be. Evergreen candles have lost their evergreeness, chocolate chip cookies no longer emit a “come hither” scent, and, for some strange reason, even bouquets of flowers have lost a lot of their luxurious fragrance. Could it be that in cultivating new and ever hardy varieties that the ever-appreciated joyous whiff of aroma is not as strong?

Perhaps pollution is to blame for transforming the lovely luster of my freckled skin into a tougher, dry surface. My tiny brown speckles have been replaced by larger dark spots and a few cringe worthy wrinkles have cropped up. Also, skin tags have burst forth and now exist in places I would least expect them. I am up to 12 of the tiny appendages, with no explanation in sight!

My ears are big and floppy, and one noticeable change is a deep indentation at the top of the lobes, presumably caused by the pressure of lying down on a pillow during my extended naps. (Perhaps it is for this reason my mother used to use a satin pillowcase.) I also notice that when I try to get up after sitting too long, my back grumbles a strong objection, perhaps related to that scientific concept that what remains at rest wants to stay at rest.

Something odd is also happening around my house. I opened the drawer in the bathroom to get my brush, and it was missing. Sitting there in its place was the nice, shiny new pair of kitchen scissors with the bright red handle my hubby had purchased. Later, while browsing through the cheese drawer in the refrigerator, my brush appeared! Of course, at that point, I completely forgot what I had wanted in the refrigerator in the first place!

On the topic of things that change, I have noticed lately when Mike Wolfe from the television show “American Pickers” goes diving for antique treasures, he often comes up with something I used in my childhood; my old pedal car, the original Cabbage Patch Kid I received from Santa, and my original Game Boy. When did my toys become something worth picking?

All of these idiosyncrasies could not possibly be because of aging. All I know is that my comfy jeans shrunk because they must have washed in hot water, and I am sticking to that!