“Doing” without the “i” spells dong
Are you a good typist?
I’m an index-finger typist who wears bifocals.
I sit in my easy chair, tapping away with my pointer fingers, peering through the lower portion of my frames, sometimes taking my glasses off, or moving my laptop back and forth, closer then further away, trying to decipher what I’ve just typed.
Tonight I responded to an online friend on Google+ (the amazing Cloudia C. from Comfort Spiral), “how are you dong?”
Of course, I meant to respond, “how are you doing?”
Hilarious only to me, as I ponder this path that I’m currently on, this amazing journey of aging. A few weeks ago, my granddaughter V. asked me if I was going to every get rid of the gray in my hair. Nope, I told her, I won these gray hairs fair and square, just by living my life. They’re mine and I’m not going to bleach them away.
V. looked at me, shook her head, laughed, and gave me a big hug.
That’s another thing about aging, by the way. The insatiable desire to go off on tangents when you’re trying to make a point.
What was my point?
So, after tonight, I’m no longer going to look for typos when I blog, or IM, or tap out something on Facebook or Google+ (I’ve given up Twitter, hopefully forever, because I was just wasting too much time).
My typos are now called DONGS.
Hilarious only to me.
Good night to you all, and remember to treat the elderly (like me) with kindness, ’cause you too will someday be old.
And good reading to you all.