That’s it for the Mayans then I guess,” said Andrew Jackson resignedly folding his newspaper and laying it on the table next to his plate. “December 21st of 2012 came and went and the only thing that ended was the Mayan calendar.”
Rose looked up from her own reading. “At least the doomsday prophets will be happy,” she said.
“They will?” said Andrew. “Why? They were wrong again weren’t they?”
“Of course, but if a doomsday prophet ever turns out to be right, there won’t be any more work for doomsday prophets,” said Rose. “They’ll all have to apply for unemployment and retraining subsidies and start new careers.”
“Wow,” said Andrew. “I wonder what kind of career a former doomsday prophet would be suited for?”
Rose pondered that for a second. “Director of the Canadian Wheat Board maybe,” she said.
Andrew nodded. “Same basic skill set at least,” he agreed.
“Speaking of calendars,” said Rose, looking at the tattered old specimen hanging on the kitchen wall, “ours still says 2012.”
“Ah yes,” said Andrew. “We’re just living in the past. That’s what people do when they get old.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Rose. “I am not old.”
“Maybe not,” said Andrew, “but you are older.”
“Older than who?” said Rose.
“Older than you were last year,” said Andrew.
“Well, so is everybody else,” said Rose.
There was a brief pause.
“You want to know what my resolution is for 2013?” said Andrew.
Rose shrugged. “Not really,” she said.
“My resolution for 2013 is to have more resolution in 2013,” said Andrew.
Rose thought about that for a minute. “That’s silly,” she said. “That’s like saying you’re going to make the farm more profitable in 2013 by making more money in 2013.”
“Wow,” said Andrew. “Are you psychic or something?”
“Yes actually,” said Rose. “Why do you ask?”
“Because that’s my second resolution for 2013!” said Andrew. “To make the farm more profitable by making more money!”
“You’re the worst resolution maker ever,” said Rose. “Your resolutions don’t make any sense.”
“Making more money always makes sense,” said Andrew.
“Your New Year’s resolution should be to make better New Year’s resolutions,” said Rose. “You’d be killing two birds with one stone.”
Andrew raised a quizzical eyebrow. “How’s that?” he wanted to know.
“Because you’d be making a New Year’s resolution, and keeping it at the same time,” said Rose.
Andrew thought about that for a long time.
“I think I get it,” he said eventually. “Because making a New Year’s resolution to make better New Year’s resolutions would be better than the New Year’s resolutions I usually make. Whoa, I think I just blew my mind.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Rose. “You don’t use it that much anymore.”
“True enough,” said Andrew. “That’s one of the perks of being old. I don’t have to think that much, because almost everything I think, I’ve already thought before. Now all I have to do is remember.” He paused. “Of course that gets more difficult every day.”
“Well, my memory is fine,” said Rose. “Short term and long term. I remember people I met 15 years ago, and I remember what I had for breakfast.”
“Everybody remembers what they had for breakfast,” said Andrew. “At breakfast your brain is still empty, so there’s room for breakfast in there.
“Well, I remember everything,” said Rose. “Except for…” she paused, searching her mind. “I seem to be losing all my…” she paused again.
“Your faculties?” said Andrew. Rose shook her head. “Your socks?” said Andrew.
“My nouns,” said Rose. “The nouns are gone. I can’t remember what things are called. Like, I want to ask Jennifer to bring me the…” she paused again…”what’s that thing called you use to open cans?” she said.
“Screwdriver,” said Andrew.
“Right,” said Rose. “OK, what’s that thing called I use to open cans?”
“Can opener,” said Andrew.
“Yes,” said Rose. “I want to ask Jenn to bring me the can opener and I can’t remember what it’s called so I have to ask her to bring me that thing I use to open cans. It’s annoying.”
“You should just use a screwdriver,” said Andrew. “It’s easier to remember.”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Rose. “But if I asked Jenn to get me a screwdriver she’d ask me if I wanted a Philippians or a Rochester, and then I’d have to remember that.”
“You mean Phillips or Robertson,” said Andrew.
“You see what I mean?” said Rose.
“You don’t need nouns anyway,” said Andrew, “because I can read your mind. All you have to do, if you have a can that needs opening, is give me that look you have, and I’ll bring you a screwdriver. No nouns required.”
Rose smiled. “That’s why I’m glad you’re my…” she paused…”my guy I’m married to,” she concluded.
Andrew grinned. “Ditto,” he said.