Blessed are the forgetful?

ANOTHER problem with getting older is losing things... important things.

Just last week I parted ways with three items important to me — my mobile phone, my umbrella and cash.

Trouble is the mobile phone I misplaced was actually my work-issued phone which attracted more than a few frowns from management.

Apart from those glares, I lost a plethora of important contact numbers in that phone including fellow journalists, members of the legal fraternity and more than a few who have appeared on the wrong side of the bar table in court.

Maybe it was the stress of losing that phone that led to my next series of dilemmas.

Having Good Friday off, I made my way out of the office on Thursday, grabbed my umbrella and set off in the rain.

Dropping into the fish market in Grand Central to gather supplies for Good Friday lunch and dinner, I naturally leant the umbrella against the counter as I collected my bag of seafood goodies and, naturally, walked off leaving behind the brolly.

This I hadn’t realised until I was walking home in the rain.

It was at this wet moment that I realised my worst case of leaving things behind.

As I walked away from the fish market, sans umbrella, I dropped into the ATM to get some cash for the Easter Weekend.

At the conclusion of the transaction, I walked off studying the receipt and only realised when outside in the rain that I hadn’t taken the cash from the slot.

Racing back inside, the cash was gone and I trudged home thinking at least someone was having a better Easter weekend than planned... with my hard earned.

Fortunately, the bank lady I called the next day explained that if the cash isn’t taken within 40 seconds the money is sucked back into the ATM so I should get that back.

These moments are stressful enough, but they paled in comparison to my mate Terry’s embarrassing moment.

Like the rest of us, Terry is over 50 and that means regular check-ups and medical tests.

Most of you older readers would understand the “stool test” and Terry’s doctor handed him a kit to take home.

After dropping into the fruit and vege store for some groceries, Terry headed home with his kit.

Now, as those of you who have had to do the same test would know, the idea is when you have your sample you put it in the container provided, then put that in the brown paper bag provided and place that in the fridge to take to pathology the next day.

The following morning Terry grabbed the brown paper bag and set off for pathology.

He thought nothing more of it until later that evening while cooking dinner when he retrieved some items from the fridge, among them he found his “stool sample”.

While he was quite shocked at this discovery, he could only wonder what the people at pathology thought when they opened the brown paper bag he’d dropped in earlier that day only to find a handful of mushrooms.

Fortunately, I wasn’t at Terry’s place for dinner that night.