Apparently, today is USA Memory Day. I’m not entirely certain what this is about, since none of the people who put it on their event calendars remembered to provide the details—and Google is absolutely certain I meant to type Memorial Day.
However, our local family museum is celebrating by inviting everyone to play Concentration-like games to enhance one’s memory in general. So we’ll go with that.
I should go to that. All day.
I don’t forget historical facts, if I’ve read it, it’s in the brainfiles somewhere, and if you need a trivia partner, I’m not a bad bet. But short-term memory stuff? Daily or weekly things I’ve done over and over for years? Like feeding the cat and putting the laundry in the dryer, packing my kids’ lunches and remembering Janie’s piano lesson,* or anything my husband tells me about his schedule?
Not so much.
So the idea of me celebrating this (completely made up, yes) holiday is snerk-making. It would be like Casanova celebrating chastity, except I’ve never enjoyed being forgetful as much as he enjoyed being unchaste.
Except on USA Memory Day. Today, the irony tickles me. It tickles me like this:
(The paper is obviously a symbol of my memory .** See what I did there?)
Please share your great moments of forgetfulness in the comments—oddly enough, we all seem to retain those—and remember to have a great weekend!
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*She has a piano contest today. Did I remember her lesson was on Wednesday this week—as it has been every week for two school years now—and make sure her books were in her backpack? Please.
**This is also funny if you think about what that kid’s going to do to his Dad’s 1040 form as soon as his motor skills kick in.
Earful of Cider 