Tiptoeing through the 60s

Now that I have safely escaped the infamous 50-something stage of life, I am carefully testing the waters before me. They look calm, but you never can be sure. At this juncture of my life, I am in no mood for taking chances.

Just the other day, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage asked, "How does it feel to be 60-something?"

I knew she was having too much fun, so I retorted by saying, "I feel like two 30-year-olds."

"Oh, no," she moaned. "I can’t handle more than one of you."

I am taking it rather carefully, though. I have heard all the rumors about what happens to a person once they pass the age of 60. Some things, I am finding out, are quite true. Just the other night, I discovered why older men go to the bathroom so often during the night.

I had just gone to bed and started my evening dance with the Sandman. As I approached the shores of oblivion, I had the urge to go to the bathroom. I sat up in bed, adjusted my nightcap, put on my slippers, stood up, and put on my bathrobe. In somewhat of a daze, I headed for the bathroom.

Once I got into the bathroom, I closed the door behind me, turned on the light, and stood there. For a moment, I did not know where I was.  Then, I could not remember why I was where I was. I puzzled over it for a moment and then turned around, walked back to my bed, took off my bathrobe, removed my slippers, and tucked myself back into bed.

I dozed off for a moment and then, all of a sudden, it occurred to me why I had visited the bathroom. So, I sat up in bed, adjusted my nightcap, put on my slippers, stood up, and put on my bathrobe. Again, I headed for the bathroom.

I closed the door and tried to turn on the light, only to discover I was standing in the closet. Extricating myself, I headed once more in the direction of the bathroom. This time, I found the bathroom successfully.

I closed the door, turn on the light, and looked in the mirror, wondering why I was in the bathroom. I decided to hedge my bets, so I lathered up my face and shaved.

I left the bathroom and headed back for bed, removed my slippers and bathrobe, and tucked myself snuggly under the sheets. Just as I was dozing off, I remembered why I wanted to go to the bathroom so urgently.

I sat up in bed, adjusted my nightcap, put on my slippers, stood up, and put on my bathrobe. In somewhat of a daze I headed for the bathroom. It took me a little longer to get to the bathroom this time, but as soon as I opened the door, the light went on. In the bathroom were a quart of milk, a pitcher of iced tea, the makings of a salad, and some luncheon meat. I poured myself a glass of iced tea, slowly drank it, and then headed back for bed.

As I snuggled myself back into bed, I heard the person on the other side of the bed moan and mumbled something. "You weren't in the kitchen were you?"

"No," I said rather sleepily, "I was in the bathroom."

I soon fell asleep and no sooner did I fall asleep than I awoke with an urge to go to the bathroom. I adjusted my nightcap, put on my slippers, stood up, put on my bathrobe, and made my way toward the bathroom.

This time, when I opened the door, the light did not go on, so I had to switch the light on myself. I stood there, looked in the mirror, picked up my toothbrush and toothpaste, and began brushing my teeth. I gargled good and long with mouthwash, turned off the light, and headed back for bed.

From the other side of the bed, I heard another moan. "Were you brushing your teeth?"

"No," I muttered incoherently, "I got a drink of tea from the kitchen."

"You shouldn't drink tea before you go to bed. It'll make you go to the bathroom."

I soon fell asleep but was awakened with a very urgent need to go to the bathroom. In a panic, I stumbled out of bed. This time, I could not find my slippers and my bathrobe was nowhere to be found, but I had to go to the bathroom!

The next thing I knew, the alarm clock was ringing, and it was seven o'clock in the morning. I still do not know if I ever went to the bathroom, but now I know why older men go to the bathroom so often during the night.

I am thinking this 60-something is going to require some fancy footwork. For myself, I am determined to enjoy my days to fullest from this day forward, even if I can’t remember where I am going or what I mean to do when I get there.

About the Author

The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship in Ocala, Florida.