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Don't Cast (Kidney) Stones at AARP

Don't Cast (Kidney) Stones at AARP

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Secretly signing my husband up for AARP to cash in on those travel discounts.
Secretly signing my husband up for AARP to cash in on those travel discounts.

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Published by: Ann Meyers Piccirillo on Mar 04, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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By Ann Piccirillo“I think I have kidney stones,” my husband hyperventilated intothe phone when I called see if he had any problems picking the kids upfrom school and chauffeuring them to their various and sundry afternoonactivities.“Hon, the pain you’re feeling is just the stress I feel every day,” Ireplied. When I realized I may have hurt his feelings I tried to ease thetension by saying, “Maybe you’re just ovulating.” At that point our  phones must have had a bad connection because the line went dead.
But it made me think; if one afternoon of getting the kids turns hiskidneys into Jiffy-Pop, I must be Wonder Woman. Through the yearsI’ve witnessed mothers on crutches masterfully maneuver themselveswhile marshaling their kids to and from school; in fact, one mom with a plaster cast on her foot had two backpacks wrapped around her crutcheswhile her pedicured big toe pushed the behind of her youngest to get himto walk faster. I’ve seen mothers pushing double strollers with one handwhile dragging their screaming Kindergartner with the other in themiddle of a torrential rain storm, and still get the Kindergartner throughthe door before the late bell. Clearly, what my husband was experiencingwas his body rejecting the interruption to his normally static dailyroutine; the stress of conforming to the kids’ schedule had barnacleditself to his lower intestines.If only he knew that I was planning something spectacular for him, perhaps he would have been more cheerful. For his 30
birthday I took him to Ireland, where we got engaged. For his 40
birthday I took him toItaly, where our plane almost crashed, but we ate the most delicious
food. I wanted to keep the tradition going for his next impendingmilestone birthday, but now we have kids, no money, and expired passports. However, unbeknownst to him I had signed him up for “AARP” and the laminated large-print beauty had just arrived in themail.When I initially showed Jim the AARP brochure that cameaddressed to him, he dismissed it as junk. I, however, salivated at all thehotel discounts. So, I took the application, engraved his pertinentinformation with a Sharpie pen (social security number, credit cardnumber, chances of survival…) and proudly forged his signature.With AARP card in hand, I made reservations for the most exotic place on earth I could afford--the Ramada Inn on Route 46 in Wayne.Hey, at least there isn’t any bullet-proof glass protecting the front desk;at least I hope there isn’t. All that matters is that with the AARPdiscount I can get a non-smoking King for $29.99. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that?

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