My Clunker Brain

My mind is starting to go. It used to work just fine, but a few months ago it began working like an old car that occasionally gets stuck in neutral. My husband, Marty, tries to help me get it started. Sometimes if he gives me a mental push, I can get back on the road again.

Me to Marty: I got a call from this guy today.
Yeah. Who was it?
I get a pained expression.
He’s tall, has a lot of tatoos. Likes to take pictures.
Oh, your son, Adam.
That’s him.
What did he say?
He wanted to know what to buy.
What to buy? Was he going to the grocery store?
No he’s buying something for an occasion.
What kind of an occasion?
It’s for a holiday that’s a month or two away.
Memorial Day?
No.
Fourth of July?
No.
What is he buying for a holiday? Does he need some decorations?
No, it’s for me. He wants to buy something for me.
For you? On what occasion would your son want to buy you something? Oh no, Honey! Did I forget your birthday?
No. No. No. My birthday isn’t until January.
Are you sure he wanted to buy something for you?
Yes. Yes. Oh now I remember. My son asked what I wanted for Mother’s Day.
Oh, that’s nice.
Yes, it is. I guess remembering people’s special occasions just sort of runs in the family.