SEVENTY-SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS

Turning 77 this year, DeRay seemed to think he had finally crossed the line into old age.  I reminded him that "Uncle" Ed was 77 when he married Mama.  They had a lot of good years hunting, fishing, traveling, gardening, canning, woodworking; visiting on the front porch with everyone who passed by.

Maybe because DeRay was making a fuss, Ed jumped on the bandwagon.  He has used it to his advantage:

*    Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t put 38-year-olds down.

*    Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t grunt.

*    Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t gripe.

*    “You didn’t get my bed made, you worthless resident of the house,” DeRay teases.  “Seventy-seven-year-olds aren’t rude."

*    Believe it or not, DeRay doesn’t know how to run the dryer.  He didn’t know where to set it or how to start it.  Getting frustrated, he barked “HELL”. “Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t say the name of a place,” Ed scolds.

*    DeRay and I were having a little argument about something.  I guess Ed was siding with his dad.  “Seventy-five-year-olds aren’t mean to 77-year-olds.”  “I’m not 75.” “Oh.”

*    Trying to maneuver the trailer in road construction, DeRay is cranky.  “Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t complain about road construction.”

*    DeRay related a story about someone doing something dumb in Costco’s.  “Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t put God’s children down.  Seventy-seven-year-olds love all of God’s children—like I do.”

*    His dad was facetiously repeating everything Eddy says in a day: “Seventy-seven-year-olds don’t imitate 38-year-olds.”

*    “77-year-olds don’t swear.”

Damn.

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DeRay is reading about Pollyanna on the TV:  Pollyanna brings so much gladness to her aunt’s dispirited New England town that she transforms it into a pleasant place to live.  The book was written in 1912 . . .”

“The year the Titanic sunk;” Ed volunteers, “and the year your parents were born.”

     Who needs an encyclopedia when they’ve got Ed?