When
I'm Sixty-Four
Song: The Beatles
"Hey Hosh?"
"What?" I call I as rummage around under my bed for a bag.
"When I get older, losing my hair," he starts.
"What?!?" What I ask as I pop out from under the bed and look at him.
"Many years from now," he finishes quickly.
"Right, anyway . . ." I prompt.
"Will you still be sending me a Valentine? Birthday greetings? Bottle of wine?" I look at him for a moment.
"Why wouldn't I?" He spots me under the bed and comes in and sits on the floor in front of me.
"If I'd been out till quarter to three, would you lock the door?"
"How drunk are you, where have you been and who were you out with?" I ask.
He smiles and keeps going.
"Will you still need me? Will you still feed me? When I'm sixty four?" I'm laughing at this point. "You'll be older too," he tacks on.
"I will not!" I say with a smile as I stand up. "I intend to look like this forever." He smiles.
"Of course you will. Just picture this," he says as he pulls me up off the floor. "I could be handy, mending a fuse when your lights have gone."
"You better be handy with a fuse,"
"And you can knit a sweater by the fireside."
"I hate to break it to you, but I don't know how to knit."
"Sunday morning, we'll go for a ride then do the garden, diggin' the weeds!" he says as he swings me around the room.
"What on earth are you talking about again?" I ask as he keeps going on with this.
"Every summer, we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear."
"Where's the Isle of Wight?" I ask as I try to get him to sit down. "Hey, send me a post card, drop me a line, stating point of view. Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely, wasting away," I say as I sit him down and really look at him. "What did they give you at that party?" I ask him.
"I dunno, but it was good," he says with a silly little smile. "So, will you still need me? Will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?" he asks. I laugh.
"Sure, why not." He smiles up at me. "One condition; no more listening to The Beatles while drinking strange alien alcoholic drinks."
"Sure thing, darlin'."
I sigh and shake my head as he passes out on the bed and starts to snore. I leave the room and silently curse him as I start humming the tune that he just based an entire conversation around.