Counting Sheep
Sheep? Really? Remember on your honeymoon in Ireland when you and your wife came across that herd of sheep just standing there (STANDING there, not jumping peacefully over blue clouds one by one, mind you) in the middle of the road—the only road for miles that would lead you back to your overpriced bed and breakfast? Sheep are not peaceful and they do not move, even when you lay on your horn and curse and bash the palm of your hand against the dashboard. Sheep suck.
Counting Backwards from 300
It’s boring. And numbers don’t distract you from that water stain on the ceiling above the dresser that you never called anyone about; numbers don’t distract you from much at all and in fact remind you of just how terrible you always were at math.
Drinking Warm Milk
Your grandmother used to make you drink a glass of warm milk before you went to bed. The smell of hot milk makes you think of old people. And you hate milk anyway, unless it’s infused with a lot of chocolate.
Clearing Your Mind
Don’t think about anything. Just relax, let the darkness overtake you. It is dark and calm and quiet, except for the ticking of the clock in the hall outside, which reminds you that the smoke alarm in your son’s room needs replacing. And you haven’t yet done that, so if by chance a fire started he could be killed. Which reminds you that you need to renew your homeowner’s policy, and shit, the mortgage is due again. Have you written the check for that? But you’ll take care of that tomorrow. Right now, don’t think about anything. Focus on the heaviness of your eyes, on relaxing your neck, your shoulders, your hands. Relax your legs. What pants are you going to wear tomorrow? Did your wife ever pick up the dry cleaning? Because you are all out of dress pants, and tomorrow is NOT casual Friday. Dammit.
How to Masturbate in Bed Next to Your Wife Without Waking Her Up
Wait until she has started to snore in that way she has picked up since she was pregnant.
Slow and steady wins the race. Hold your hand up and out to minimize shaking of the mattress. It is not as comfortable, but it is quieter.
Choose one scenario—a supermodel photo shoot, the pool guy interrupting the rich wife sunbathing nude, that weird giant champagne bath orgy in a movie your brother rented during a hunting trip. Focus on that story and don’t let other thoughts ruin your concentration.
Wear socks to bed. Use one of them to catch the mess. Ball up said sock and toss just under the bed. Use the other sock on one foot to remind you to pick up the soiled one in the morning.
Appendix A: Sample Soundtrack for 3 a.m.
The National Anthem
Why: The only song you knew the words to when trying to rock your son back to sleep in the middle of the night.
Talking Heads, “Psycho Killer”
Why: Reminds you of college, circa 1980, you and your roomies blasting the entire album late at night while getting ready to head out for an evening of partying.
Paul Simon, “Train in the Distance”
Why: Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance. Note the Amtrak that runs just a mile from your house, the soft, soothing sound of the horn as it passes through town. Imagine yourself in another life in one of those sleeper cars, the bottom bunk, tucked inside a warm blanket, lulled to sleep by the constant motion (you were always able to fall asleep in a car, too), heading toward a more exciting destination, a long-distance lover perhaps, anywhere but here.
Miley Cyrus, “Party in the U.S.A.”
Why: Catchy, yes? All the teenagers love it—and you won’t be able to get it out of your head. Ever. Especially when trying to clear your mind and drift off to dreamland. And the Jay-Z song was on.
All About Sleeping Pills
There are red ones and yellow ones and white ones, capsules and tablets, and even liquid forms if you include NyQuil, which you used to find effective in high school on long car rides with your annoying parents. Do not take anything unless prescribed by a doctor, unless they come highly recommended by your brother, who used to work in a pharmacy in high school and since his back injury last fall seems pretty knowledgeable in general about medicine.
Do not take sleeping pills and attempt to operate heavy machinery, like a fork lift or a tractor or, more likely, your Honda Pilot at 1 a.m. when what you really want is one of those blue Slurpees from 7-Eleven.
Do not take if you are intoxicated or may become intoxicated, if you are pregnant or may become pregnant, if you are not able to get a full eight hours of rest, if you ate beans and rice for dinner, or if you have an important meeting the next morning about that promotion at work.
Side effects may include nausea; headaches; hallucinations; paranoia about that stupid comment about old people and warm milk you made in front of your boss, who just admitted his mother into a nursing home; restless leg syndrome; loss of hair (or is that just an excuse?); an uncontrollable urge to pee right when you finally get settled into a comfortable position with your pillow; drowsiness (ha ha—it actually does say that one right on the box); thirst; hunger; depression.
The most common side effect is laying in the pitch dark staring up at the ceiling and still not being fucking able to fall asleep.
How To Make Up After A Fight
No one wants to fight, but we do anyway. Here are some things that you can do to make up sooner and get back on track:
1. Don’t attack, defend, or explain. Don’t start to give reasons for why you were fighting—because she still hasn’t made your son pick up his motherfucking toys from three nights ago, because you haven’t slept in two days and your eyes feel like they’re being rubbed by sandpaper, because a blind monkey could do the job better than Marty from marketing—or you will restart the fight.
2. If you were wrong, admit it. Admitting when you are wrong will help to build respect and ease tension. Even if you were right that the child needs to learn how to clean up after himself, you may have been wrong in tossing all the expensive wooden train cars right in the trash. For example, simply saying, “I’m sorry that I am a little tired and under pressure and lose my temper occasionally because I work 60 hours a week in order to pay the mortgage on this starter home about an hour away from the city I have to commute to so that you can stay home and watch our son and walk dogs to earn your pedicure money. I should have been more patient,” can go a long way toward reconciling.
3. Deal positively with continued verbal attacks following an argument. Your wife may say you are an idiot. Don’t fan the flames.
4. Take responsibility for change after an argument. Do your part to work on whatever valid criticisms your partner had of you. For example, try not to be an idiot.
5. Reaffirm your desire for a good relationship after an argument. Keep it positive. “I don’t want to be stuck in a bad marriage” is negative and invites more attacks. “I love you, and I want us to take an overnight train trip to New Orleans” is positive.
6. Be mature, even if your partner isn’t. In every relationship, one partner is more mature than the other. If she says, “Don’t be ridiculous—no one travels by train anymore,” do not point out how stupid that is. Instead, show her brochures of the overnight cars and use the word “romantic” a lot. Let your maturity help to bring your partner up.
Chapter 8 — Getting Through the Day
Borrow your wife’s under-eye concealer to mask the purple under each eye. Dab with powder and examine in all lights.
At work, do not attend any meeting without a grande cup of coffee. Come prepared with pen and paper—doodling will help you concentrate and stay alert. Keep eye contact 80 to 90 percent of the time. Resist yawning—it is contagious and will contribute negatively to the general atmosphere of the meeting.
Carry mints in your pocket to mask the smell of the coffee.
If the exhaustion really catches up with you, take the elevator up to the seventh floor where the private bathroom off the hallway has a good lock and a loud fan. Sit on the toilet and bend forward, cupping your head in your
hands and Close Your Eyes. Set your iPhone alarm just in case you drift off.
Epilogue — On Sleep
Creep back into bed. Pull the covers up to your chin. Roll to the side and press up against your wife, who smells like the sea. Remember that moment in Dublin when the sun came through the pub window and lit up her hair as she laughed at one of your dumb jokes. She always laughs at your dumb jokes. Whisper, “On our honeymoon, we should’ve taken the trains instead of driving, don’t you think?” When she murmurs, “Mm hmm” and presses her butt just slightly against you, breathe deep and settle your head further into the pillow.
Everything seems better in the morning, your mother used to say. Imagine your mother waving to you from a platform. Imagine yourself being taken away by a large locomotive, its steam rising hopefully into the air, forming little puffs shaped like sheep. Imagine the caboose, disappearing from view, circling steadily into the mountains far, far away. Sleep. Dream.
THE ETIQUETTE OF DEMENTIA
XV. On Saying No
How do you politely tell your oldest son “no” when he asks you where your property deed is? You do not want to seem rude. Try diverting the conversation to topics such as the dripping faucet in the kitchen or the new priest at Sunday mass whose accent is so thick you can’t even understand the Our Father.
If your son, who has always been rather condescending since he graduated from law school, won’t drop it, we advise coming equipped with an “anchor phrase” that will help you stand your ground. Consider “That doesn’t work for me,” “I prefer not to,” “My chest really hurts”—and repeat your phrase as needed, knowing you needn’t say more.
Chapter 1 — Warning Signs
It usually first appears as forgetfulness.
You may find yourself in the middle of the baking aisle in the grocery store and realize you have no idea why you are there. In which case, it is best to grab the nearest can of cherry pie filling and sack of flour and wheel quickly to the cash register. When the employee stocking the canola oil asks you if you are ok, smile brightly and tell him of course you are and could he please move his cart out of the way so you can pass.
You may say to your only grandchild, “Did I ever tell you about the time I met John Denver at the Atlanta airport?” And she may answer, “Duh, only like seventeen million times, Gramsie,” in a tone of voice you would call boorish. Chalk it up to adolescence because kids that age are still testing limits.
A great tip: wear the sweatshirt with the penguins. Three penguins, to remember you have three children. Two boys and a daughter in the middle—a daughter who seems eternally unhappy and who you suspect may be a closet lesbian.
When your memory starts to go, you may feel frustrated, which translates sometimes into anger and resentment at the people around you.
You may say to your grandchild, “Did I ever tell you about the time I met John Denver at the Atlanta airport?” and when she smirks at you and says, “No, never, Gramsie,” you might want to slap her teeth out, but resist.
Always nod sweetly and smile. In crowds, wait to see if others laugh before joining in merrily, your lips kicking back against your teeth and blood pumping through your body, reminding you you’re still alive.
Worksheet #2 — Last Will and Testament
Use this worksheet as a place to record your thoughts. Note this is NOT an official will and testament. You must have your documents signed, dated and notarized.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF Mrs. T.L.S.
I.
I, Mrs. T.L.S., residing at [city, state of testator], on [date] being of sound mind, do hereby declare this instrument to be my last will and testament.
II.
I hereby revoke all previous wills.
III.
I direct that the disposition of my remains be as follows:
Cremation? Don’t want my body rotting in the ground
IV.
I give all the rest and residue of my estate to:
My children, to be divided equally (don’t fight!)
Excluding these items:
My Bible (with family tree) to my daughter Louisa, may you go to church more often
The balance of my savings account to SPCA
Pierogie recipe to the ladies of the Sacred Heart, who’ve wanted to get their grubby hands on it for years anyway
My good looks and intelligence (ha!) to …
XXI. On Reminders
Post-it notes will save your life. On the stove, try: Turn Off Burner. On the bathroom door: Is The Water Running? Next to the bedside water glass: Check The Front Lock. Next to the phone: Hide All Post-it Notes When Company Comes.
Appendix Four — Using Rubber Bands
When you were a child it was customary to keep a rubber band around your wrist to zap yourself whenever you cursed aloud. Use it to your advantage now, zap zap zap when the confusion sets in, zap to remind you of that young boy Gregory you used to have a crush on who said things like “shit piles” and “fuck yeah” that you longed to repeat, to feel on your tongue; zap to recall your first taste of vodka; zap to remember that first Christmas you didn’t come home to Mom and Dad but went hitchhiking around southern California, before hitchhiking was bad, dust on your behind, sunglasses perched atop your head, and that large backpack that you and your girlfriends kept your stash of pot in.
Zap to remember the penguin sweatshirt. Three babies, one each year during your late 20s. Two boys and the oldest a girl, your only daughter, a sweet loving woman with the longest eyelashes you’ve ever seen.
On Nursing Homes
It is a New Vision of Living. State-of-the-Art, Modern Luxuries and Amenities. You should not admit how modern-looking and appealing the large, shiny kitchen counters look. They are Alternative Living Communities, spacious, one-floor apartments with walls so thin you can hear the man in the unit next to yours snoring each night and Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if you wanted to still be living with your husband you wouldn’t have divorced him all those many years ago.
(Only, those penguins of yours will say gently, you didn’t divorce their father. Remember now? He died 10 years ago, your Gregory, and maybe you’d thought about divorcing him many times—a Modern Man With Expensive Tastes and a Genuinely Wandering Eye!—but you stayed by his side while the cancer ate him up and spit him out like the little worms you used to find in the apples on your grandmother’s orchard.) Zap.
Check in at the desk each morning to see if you have any visitors scheduled. Ask casually, so as not to seem desperate. The receptionist is grouchy, and she may remind you of your youngest, a daughter, who you worry hates you. After several weeks, force yourself to stop walking by there. Stay in your apartment with its official little signs to remind you of everything. No more need for the Post-its, now that the penguins are paying Good Money for this place. Even the oven will shut off automatically after an hour. And you don’t really use the oven anymore—who would you cook for?
Become fond of the pizza delivery boy—call him Timothy, after your youngest son—but when he acts uneasy know you’ve gone too far. Zap zap zap and start thawing your own pizza from the frozen food section of the Safeway.
Notes
† While some folks may experience confusion about basic things such as their children’s ages, their home address and current events such as the name of that no-good president of ours, there will be seemingly random memories that stick like mildew on a barn. In this instance, June 3, 1971, denotes the day you bought the new John Denver album “Poems, Prayers and Promises” at the five and dime store downtown.
Chapter 10 — Forgetting
The right thing to do is Make the Best of It. Attend the Tuesday afternoon bingo games, and when you get bingo before Bernice with the weeping eyes, hold off on calling it out so she might have a chance to get her B5. Chat with the men in the corner of the game room who smell like tobacco and raisins.
Stop asking people what their names are and if you’ve met, because you have met and you should r
emember their names. Tell the game room men that lewd joke about the black man and the psychologist, and when they laugh, tell it again. Fold the penguin sweatshirt carefully in the back of your wardrobe, cover it with comfortable pajama pants and the Penn State t-shirt one of the men give you one night after it shrunk in the laundry. Let the penguins slide off into the snow, washed out in whiteness, and onto your wrists slip gold bangle bracelets that clang sweetly against the dining room table.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank all of the friends and family who have helped make this book what it is, either by reading early drafts of stories and manuscripts or providing their knowledge and expertise along the way. Special thanks to Steve Himmer, Ellen Parker, Matt Bell, Michael Czyzniejewski, and Dave Housley for initially publishing several of these pieces and lending their editorial advice. Thanks also to Brandon Wicks, Katie Rawson, John Copenhaver, Beth Posniak, Laura Ellen Scott, Lorrie Bennett, Marcin Wrona and Maggie Popadiak for their help and guidance. I feel great gratitude to Randall Brown and Matter Press for first believing in this nutty little book, and also to Andrew Gifford for being crazy enough to want to bring it back. Much love always to my parents, Ann and Bernard Laskowski, for everything. A special shout-out to my son Dashiell, who gave me great insight for the “Insomnia” story and continues to amaze me every day. And of course, to my talented and supportive husband Art Taylor—for everything from funny voices to late night feedings to excellent mint juleps. You are my star.
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