So during one of my morning convos with Molly I said something and she said, “Ah, that checks the Bingo box.”

She is a smart-alec, and so I knew that couldn’t be good.

Turns out I am only slightly less repetitious than the Ozempic ad.

Which made me start thinking about all the other things I say over and over which cause my children no end of amusement. Which, of course has made me start doing it on purpose.

So I put together a BINGO card (yes, smaller than regulation, but hey, this is a blog, not a novel.)

So here is my personal BINGO card featuring my frequent rants and repetitious comments.

FREE SPACE: That’s my friend from Tapestry, Melinda (see the FRIEND thing below). Apparently I mention her so frequently that Molly said she should be my FREE SPACE. It’s an honorary position and subject to change.

I NEVER HAD MUCH MONEY: I had an aunt who apparently said this and my mom picked up on it and said it as a joke, and now I say it as a joke, but truth in jest. When all your husbands are entrepreneurs and you have tons of kids, it is sometimes true. But mostly, it’s a joke. My mom is laughing.

I’M ONLY SORT OF RETIRED: This IS true. And a source of a lot of WHINING, with and without the H. Turns out I sold the part of Dallas Media Center that I rarely worked on and kept the website business which is running me ragged, which means it’s eating into my Coffee/Word Game/Crossword morning time which, if I had my druthers would last past noon. But it does keep my hand in the tech game. Which leads to. . .

TECH IS KILLING ME: No one 71 years young should be working in tech. My brain is slower; tech is changing at breakneck speed. The lingo is constantly changing; I cannot remember the difference between RAM and ROM. People want their websites and emails to be working 24/7/365; I think that’s asking a lot. Unfortunately getting out of the website biz involves hours on the phone with Kevin from India. Hence the problem with my morning time.

See how circular my life is?

THE GRANDS: At some point during every conversation, I will mention Lyla, Wren, Noah or Oliver. It’s gonna happen and it’s probably gonna be accompanied by pictures if I’m in your presence. I’m not sorry about this. I’m a grandparent; it’s in the job description.

MY FRIEND FROM (INSERT NAME HERE): Apparently I keep reintroducing my friends to my family and probably my family to my friends. If I stop, you might not know the difference between the two Janets or the two Le(e or eigh)s or who Martha, Steve, or Frank are. So okay, I’ll just mention them willy nilly and leave you to figure it out. This seems risky and not very practical. And I’ll try not to introduce my children over and over, but hey, you know you get them confused!

SCOTT OR MIKE: I do a lot of reminiscing now that I am a member of The Worst Club Ever and alone (see below), so I’ve probably told you the same old stories before. Just be patient and in a moment I’ll move on to one of the other topics. SIDE NOTE: Stories about either or both of them can lead to CRYING which for some reason is always worse on Monday. I could have made this a block of it’s own, but I ran out of spaces.

YOU KNOW THAT I’M ALONE NOW: This is meant to guilt the hearer (usually a child of mine) into doing something for me. It rarely works as they are all on to me. But the reality is that when you are ALONE, it is difficult to move a sofa, get anything out of the attic and down to the curb, open a jar of salsa (it’s always either pickles or salsa. Some kind of conspiracy, I think by the lid industry,) or hold your own stepstool while you change a lightbulb. So if I use this line on you, maybe you should dig a little deeper, poohead, and see what I need.

HAVE YOU READ THE BLOG: This is pure hubris, but I can’t help it. I need validation. I’m not just sending this stuff into the ether for fun. If that were the point, I would just quietly journal over there in the recliner. The point of this blog is to reach out and connect with you in some way, to remind you of something, to touch a common thread in you, to make you smile or laugh or cry even (especially if it’s Monday.) It’s no fun for me if you don’t come along for the ride.

I could have made more spaces: one for the crying, one for Tapestry (my women’s group whom I love and cherish,) one for the current word game phenomenon which I am addicted to, and one for travel, the trips past or the ones coming up. I can go on and on about this stuff, too.

I am nothing, if not predictable.