Daily Archives: October 27, 2011

With Age Comes….

…….the ability to totally mess with the minds of children and get away with it.

What?

You were expecting me to say something profound like, “With age comes wisdom.” weren’t you?

Let me tell you a little secret.

The true wisdom of aging is that you can get away with a lot more mischief and people chalk it up to your being on in years.

Ah, it’s truly sweet when embraced.

Truly sweet.

Case in point.

It was near Halloween a couple of years ago and I was standing in line at the pharmacy waiting to pick up  some medication.

That’s another truism about aging.  You spent half the time you have left waiting in line to pick up some drug that’s either going to make you feel drunk, nauseated or both.  Of course, without the drug you’d drop dead before morning, so there’s that.

Anyway, I was waiting in front of a harried young mother and her three *darling* little boys.  They had to be about aged 3-6 if I had to guess.

She had managed to get them all inside a shopping cart which can only mean one thing.

Total bedlam.

I can tune out the sounds, but when the bedlam includes kicking/punching me in the back repeatedly, well…I take exception to that.

I think harried mother might have done something if she had any strength left, but judging by her exhausted look I can honestly say that lifting a teacup would’ve been too much for her.

After the third or fourth whack upon my arthritic spine I turned around to face the little devils darlings.

“Oh NO!! SHE GOTS A WART ON HER NOSE!” , the youngest exclaimed as he looked at me wide-eyed.  The other two monsters cherubs stopped their fighting long enough to stare at my face gape-mouthed.

It’s true, I have a small wart on the side of my nose.  Been there all my life and little did I know it would ever be useful.

“How observant you are my dear,” I said in my best sing-songy-but-vaguely-terrifying voice, “I’m a witch and all witches have warts.”

“Oh, she’s not a wi—-“, Mom had begun to listen, but stopped mid-sentence as I shot her the look.

You know “the look”, the one that says “shut-yer-face-I’m-workin’-here”. 

That look.

“Yes, I am a witch and do you know what my specialty is?”

Three little heads shook in unison.

“I specialize in turning little boys who don’t listen to their mothers into toads.”

Three little mouths dropped open and the littlest gasped.  They all looked at Mom, but she had turned her head and I could see her shoulders shaking.

They thought she was crying, no doubt at the prospect of having to care for three toads.

I knew better.

I turned back around and didn’t hear a sound from the cart for the rest of our wait.

When I got my prescription I turned around to see three little sets of eyes still staring at me.

I raised a finger, they huddled together, and I pointed at them each one at a time.

“Remember me, because I will remember you.”

As I walked past their cart, Mom mouthed a silent “thank you” as the boys sat stock still afraid even to breathe.

I laughed long and hard over that one, and have since used it on my own grandkids.

It works because they are never really sure if I’m putting them on or not.

Who knows?

I do, after all, have that wart on my nose.  A true hallmark of any witch.

“I’ll get you my pretty…and your little dog too!”