Last night I put the wrong toothpaste on Vida's toothbrush, a mistake for which I was soundly rebuked. I told her she was not allowed to rebuke her mother. She harumphed and went to sleep. Then this morning, she came to my bedside and roused me from a reasonable slumber with the four words you don't want to hear at 7 am: "Mom. Mom. Mom! MOM!"
"What is it, Vi? Sheesh."
"I'm sorry about the toothpaste."
"What? Oh. It's okay."
"I just wanted the other kind."
"Mom's forget that kind of thing."
"Yup. I forgot."
"Don't worry. Sometimes when you get old, you lose your mind."