Common courtesy

Today, I am wondering when the senior citizens in my life are going to realize that Donnie and I are adults who deserve the common courtesy of asking before assuming we can do something to fit their whims.

If I had to label their policy, I’d put a twist on the old military saying: “Don’t ask, just tell.” As in, “We’re going to do so-and-so on Saturday.” Not, “Hey, here’s what we’re thinking about this Saturday. Is that good for you?”

I don’t think that anyone in my family over the age of 60 knows how to utter the phrase: “Is that good for you?” Nor do they know how to say “What is your schedule like?” or “I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, but could you possibly _______.”

And then when we don’t react with glee over their demands—because hey, guess what, we have a thing called a LIFE—geriatric panties get in a wad and everyone is appalled that we didn’t read their minds and just know that they were going to want something from us, so we’d better keep our schedule free.

And why is it that sitting down and talking rationally rarely works with older generations? It’s like they literally cannot comprehend what you’re saying. They cannot hear my voice speaking plain English to them…unless I’m sighing under my breath about them, and then they don’t miss a word.

I’ll be fine later, but at the moment, I am frustrated.

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