My memory is like a trail of bread crumbs

As I get older, I find that my memory is like a trail of bread crumbs.

As an example, I’ve never been concious of my age. If someone asks me how old I am, I have to remember:
1) What year is it?
2) What’s today’s date?
3) Have I had my birthday yet? ( In an emergency, I can skip steps 2 and 3 and still be greater than 95% certain of getting the correct answer. )
4) What year was I born?
5) How to do the math. ( This step has gotten significantly harder moving into the 21st century. )

I’ve always been this way but it’s getting worse. I started to ask a friend a question this morning and drew a complete blank on his name. The only way that I could remember was to ask myself:
1) What’s his wife’s first name? ( It’s always been easier for me to remember a pretty girl’s name than the name of some baldheaded dude. )
2) What’s was her name before she married him? ( I’ve actually known her since before she could drive, him not so long. )
3) What’s her last name now?
4) Fill in the blanks – if his last name is ______, then his first name is _____.

I shared this with the lovely Mrs. Roscoe and she has kindly agreed to say, “Caw! Caw!” whenever she sees that someone has eaten some of my breadcrumbs. I’m so relieved.

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