When arrived, distracted by talking to his son and reaching in the glove compartment for the card, he shut the car door. Oh no, not just the keys in the car, but the engine runnning, too. Triple A was there within 30 minutes. So scary that this was the second time in recent history he did this.
And my mum just nods "I understand him" when we tell him to wait inside the house for the Triple A truck so he stops stressing over it because she says the older you get the more you fuss over little things. Ha! I then let loose a deep groan and tell her not to say such awful things because that means my husband is only to get worse with age! [Insert many stories of him stressing over tiny things and how I just don't understand why he does.]
The upside to being 80? You can do things you only dream of when you're young and afraid of getting caught and/or feeling silly. This is a no longer fear getting caught tale: F-I-L lives in the city with on street parking and everyone is responsible for their front lawn up to the curb. So some neighbor comes to park, jumps the curb and ruins the grass leaving in the morning. Yeah, jumps the curb and *leaves it there*. Next night does the same damn thing. This pisses f-i-l off. Alot. So he goes out at 1 a.m. with a hammer and nail and pounds that sucker right into the tire. Freedom of aging isn't all bad. I'm thinking I should stay on the good side of my f-i-l, though.