The Aisle of Incontinence
I used to be young. It wasn’t that long ago. Today I am pushing a loudly rattling grocery cart through Target, doing some shopping for dinner. I always seem to get the loudly rattling or squeaky cart or the one with the wheel that does not turn at all and cuts you short in the belly when you try to change direction. Maybe I should mark them with permanent color markers. Red for rattle, sapphire for squeak, blue for wheel. This is my life now.
Suddenly I find myself in an aisle I’ve never been down or even seen before. The shelves seem towering with stacked boxes and plastic packages of….incontinency supplies. Is this a sign? Just as I am thinking about getting old I turn down an entire supermarket aisle devoted to “Depends” and its competitors. Is the sheer in-stock volume of these senior diapers due to the Baby Boomers all getting incontinent at once?
My speed leaving the Aisle of Incontinence made the cart squeak not only faster but louder. Trying to forget about this incident, I looked around in sporting goods and realized that I really needed to find the restroom.
