Not Enough Time | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Not Enough Time | Previous Challenge Entry
By Linda Stauth
05/24/05
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I guess you could say that I march to a different drummer than most women. I don’t like shopping or jewelry or makeup. I rarely go to the hair salon, only when my family can’t tell me apart from the dog. And one of the worst things I’d ever like to receive on my birthday is a gift certificate to a beauty spa. Maybe my great, great grandmother was Jane, the one that was married to Tarzan, the rope-swinging He-man. All I know is that I dread this summer.

This summer I will be 18,250 days old (50 years) give or take a few days. I didn’t want to mathematically calculate in the extra leap year days and I think I lost a few days of my life while raising 4 kids, 6 dogs, 1 cat, 2 cockatoos, guinea pigs, rabbits, gerbils, turtles and lastly an iguana named Gary (my husband).

I take back that spa gift as being the worst gift I could ever receive, I think it would be a surprise party. I suspect my husband has been plotting one for months but I’ve been warning him against it longer than that. I tell him it’s a very bad idea, that there will be no more forgiveness left in our marriage if he does this. I’ve just finally healed from the scars he left on my 40th. That traumatic year will forever be etched in my memory. I got the bananas scared right out of me when I met a gorilla in the dark at the side of the house. I enjoyed that as much as I did when I wet my pants after my first horseback-riding lesson when I was 45.

I’ve never cared about the age thing before, until now. I guess that’s another indication that I am not a normal woman. This several thousand-day-old birthday party bothers me. I’m running out of time to do all the things I want to do before I’m laid out for all to view. I’ve never seen a Pileated wood-pecker before. I’m a bird-watcher and it bugs the binoculars out of me that all my birder friends have seen one but me. One time I thought I saw one but it was only the park’s red trail marker, flapping in the breeze. Boy was I disappointed. I just blink and I miss it, or I have to run in the bush for an urgent nature’s call of my own.

More importantly, I am running out of time to see all my kids grow up and raise monkeys like themselves to scare a few days off of their lives. There also has to be time for justice in this marriage–my husband going gray. It’s not fair! It seems like I’ve been coloring my hair since the days of Noah and the great flood.

Well, I’ve got to run the doorbell just rang. OH NO! Is that a T. Rex on my porch?

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