Schweddy Balls

Sometimes I forget I’m old.

Fortunately, I work with first graders so they remind me of this on a regular basis.

Like last week, when I was showing the class a lesson on the overhead, one student raised her hand 

and said, “Mrs. O, you want to know something really cool?”

Absolutely!

She pointed to my hands, which were visible beneath the projector.

“The wrinkles on your right hand perfectly match the wrinkles on your left hand,” she said.

The rest of the class smiled and nodded in unison. 

Symmetrical hand wrinkles.

How lucky am I?

But it’s not just my physical appearance that’s trending upwards.

The other day we watched a video on the moon and the next day I summarized the facts.

“The moon takes just under one month to orbit the earth,” I told the class. “27.3 days to exact.” 

One of the students smiled and raised his hand. “You know, what Mrs. O?”

“What?” I said.

“For someone your age, you sure do have a good memory.”

So just to recap, my wrinkly hands match and my decaying grey matter still works.

I blush at such praise!

But it’s not just the kids that think I’m old.

I discovered that some of my co-workers also think I’m…

Over the hill.

Ancient.

Let’s go with Vintage.

I had recently shared my love of 90’s SNL skits with my young co-worker Ashley.

Apparently, Ashley liked some of these skits so much that she passed them on to another teacher.

The next day she asked if I’d ever seen the SNL skit, “Schweddy Balls.”

Ashley, do you even know me?

“That’s one of my favorites!” I said.

“Really?” Ashley said, somewhat surprised. “I was going to send it to you but Robert wasn’t sure if you would find it funny.”

Robert is the resource teacher who I have lunch with almost every day.

I must admit, I was insulted.

I don’t care if you think my appearance or my cognitive abilities are showing wear and tear, but to imply that I’m TOO OLD to appreciate good humor.

Those are fightin’ words!

Except, don’t fight me. I’ve got arthritis.

And Robert, of all people, knows I appreciate good humor.

Oh boy, was Robert going to get a piece of my mind!

After school, I marched right up to him!

“I heard you said I don’t like Schweddy Balls!” I said.

Robert stared at me, his face blank.

“Ashley told me,” I said, raising my voice. “She said that you said I might not think Schweddy Balls is funny!”

“Uh, uh, uh …” Robert stammered.

“I love Schweddy Balls,” I said emphatically. “You should know that about me!”

Several co-workers glanced over, one of which was Ashley, who walked over to me, and whispered in my ear. “This Robert didn’t say that. That Robert did.”

She pointed to another teacher, also named Robert. 

A Robert that I didn’t know very well.

And who didn’t know me.

Or know of my love for all things funny.

And Schweddy.

The Robert I knew was still scratching his head, trying to figure out this whole crazy, Schweddy scenario.

I’m sorry, Robert, please forgive me.

I get confused sometimes.

I can’t help it.

I’m old.

The Robert on the left questioned my love of Schweddy Balls. The Robert on the right would never do such a thing.