Telepeer

Frumpy Mom: Warning: I might have a memory lapse now and then

June 10, 2026

There was recently a party to celebrate my 70th birthday. If you didn’t get your invitation, it was entirely an oversight. Now that I have entered my golden years, I have CRS disease. “Can’t Remember (Stuff).”

Like, I couldn’t remember what this column was supposed to be about. Sorry. I’m vamping.

I know some of you also have this ailment, because you write and tell me so. But let me ask you this: Have you ever used the flashlight on your phone to search your car frantically for that very same device? Well, I have. On the last occasion, it took my son to point this out to me, and I believe an eye roll was involved.

I know you’ve looked for your glasses when they’re already on your head. C’mon. That’s a cliche. I would like to tell you a worse example, but … um … I can’t remember it.

This story pertains only to women. One time, I was desperate to find my car keys and looked everywhere I could imagine. I looked in places I couldn’t imagine. Then, I sighed with relief because my daughter, Curly Girl, had just walked in from school. We call Curly Girl “The Finder” because she has an uncanny ability to find lost possessions of all types. She should be a private detective.

I called out to her, “Help, I can’t find my keys!”
She looked at me and said, “Did you look in your bra?”

I stuck my hand into that feminine torture device and guess what? There they were.

Unfortunately, I can’t blame my poor memory for anyone’s name on my age nor on the chemo brain that still lingers.

I’ve never been able to remember anyone’s name, and it’s a frequent source of humiliation. Especially when you’ve been acquainted with this person for some time now, and it’s way too late to ask for a name. And especially when they remember you quite vividly.

I can fake my way through it until someone else walks up and I’m clearly expected to make an introduction. “Um, hi this is my friend……” and my voice trails off. If I’m lucky, the other person will jump in and supply the moniker.

I’ve never figured out a way to spare myself this embarrassment, though at times I’ve resorted to having a friend introduce himself and then the other person responds, while I’m standing behind them listening. I wish everyone could just wear nametags.

I used to know a jolly priest who would greet people after mass, and jovially ask them, “And how do you spell your last name again?” At some point, I realized it was a trick but it worked quite well. Not so much for me, though. When I’ve tried it, people look at me like I’m a moron and say “R-O-S-E.” Well, in my defense, it could be spelled ROASE.

As a working reporter, I always tried extra hard to get people to spell their names because you just never know what kind of inventive (read crazy) spellings people would impose on their innocent children, who never did anything to harm them.

In the speed of the moment interviewing someone about the rain or the drought or the oil spill, I would hurriedly write down “Jane Eyre.” Only to get an irate phone call the next day that the correct spelling was “Jay-Eene Eyre.” Oh, duh. Sorry.

Think, people, please. Do you really want to subject your infant whom you hopefully love to a name he or she will have to spell for everyone every day for the rest of their lives? And get annoyed when people spell it wrong anyway? You’re not being unique. You’re being cruel. Little Lyndae Lea won’t forgive you.

Trust me. I live on a street that no one can pronounce, let alone spell. If I’d known that I’d have to spell it constantly to everyone, I would have bought the house on Flower Street.

Well, that’s my entire treatise on my chronic disease. I guess I don’t have room to tell you about the party. It was good. And I didn’t even drink too much. I will say that age 70 seems so much older than age 69. I don’t know why this is true But I can feel my joints starting to malfunction more every day now.

Want to write to me? I’m at mfisher@scng.com. I especially like it when you correct my grammar and tell me I need to lose weight.

Orange County Register

News Details

Frumpy Mom: Warning: I might have a memory lapse now and then

News

CONTACT INFO

QUICK LINKS

SERVICES

CURRENT NEWS