Repeat Offender

My name is Nancy and I am a repeat offender.

Before your mind’s eye has created a picture of me in a striped cotton ensemble with shackle accessories, allow me to explain. I repeat stories. I repeat stories over and over and often to the same people.

I love stories. I love to read them, hear them, and tell them. When Martin has an adventure at Home Depot and wants to share that story in three sentences, I stop him and request a full narrative. I want to see the story on the big screen of my imagination. So, naturally, I assume that’s what people want from me. And usually that works well. I tell funny experiences and get laughs. I share concerns and get support. I narrate the adventures of living with Martin and get condolences.

As I get older, however, I have become a bit forgetful. I don’t always remember who has heard my rendition of how I was ignored at the local grocery store while the lovely young customer behind me was greeted like a lost relative. (Details in a future blog.) And if you happen to be family you may get to hear about my dermatologist visit individually, again at our monthly Matriarchs and Monarchs women’s gathering and one more time on the Sunday family ZOOM call.

 A few weeks ago, I was with Sydnie and Pedro and shared a humorous story about accessing music on my iPhone which had only two tunes at that time. They made recommendations which I did not write down. During another visit I shared my hilarious story, again. This time they took my phone and fixed it immediately. I protested but my granddaughter said “You’ve repeated this story a number of times  so I assume it is an important issue.” I humbly accepted my new subscription to Apple Music.

But repeat performances are not always perceived as too much. I am the pick-up person for Jennette and Geordan and they are always ready for an embarrassing Poppy story. As soon as it ends we giggle. Then they request the re-telling and it seems to get even more laughs because they already know what is coming. 

So, on behalf of those friends and families who no longer want to hear multiple renditions of Martin’s dismal packing efforts when our children were young or the story of how I mistakenly wore my son’s name tag when I had a meeting with His Eminence Daniel Cardinal DiNardo, I will blog those stories.  All the ridiculous things that happen to me (and the source for these is endless) will appear here where you can just read them for yourselves and move on with your own life stories. And when I start my oral version you can simply say “I’ve already read that story.” 

Feel free to comment if you suffer the same issue. My name is Nancy and I am a repeat offender.

Have I already told you this?

PS – Head shot provided by Jennette.