Simon Says . . .  Adults go to preschool!  Don’t believe me? Last year the very first preschool for grown-ups (in the world) opened up RIGHT HERE.  So I enrolled. And even though some of my classmates’ arthritis seems to have flared up while finger-painting, we have a blast.

Here’s a typical day’s curriculum.

Morning Circle Time: Calendar – Can you actually remember what day it is? Weather- Let’s look outside and talk about rain. Will your bursitis act up? Stretching – Can you touch your toes? Should you??

Song Time: Wrinkle, Wrinkle Little Scar, If You’re Peppy and You Know It, Middle-Age MacDonald Had an Organic Farm, On Top of Old Fogey, Do Your Boobs Hang Low?`

Sharing Time: Swap good dental plans, a referral for a rheumatologist, or an effective eye cream for crow’s feet!

Show & Tell: We’re proud of ourselves! — Susan cut calories and fat from her meatloaf recipe. Carol got new yoga pants. Richard is finding himself in therapy.

Snack Time: Non-GMO kale chips sprinkled with Metamucil and lactose-free skim milk.

Playground Time: Today we’re hanging from monkey bars to tighten flabby arms.

Arts ‘n Crafts: Use Play-Doh to form heel inserts or arch supports, String beads to make chains/necklaces for our reading glasses.

Story Time: Goodnight Prune, Poky Little Progesterone, The Little Pension That Could

Block Time:  Who can build the highest tower with their prescription bottles and diuretic containers?

Nap Time: Bring your own orthopedic pillow.

Nursery Rhyme Time:  Jack & Jill went Over the hill — Mary, Mary, still eating dairy! — Hickory, dickory dock, We can’t turn back the clock.

Closing Circle Game: “I spy with my little eye . . .  some bad hair dye, facelift gone awry, elbows that are dry, someone no longer spry!”

In the few weeks since I’ve attended class, I’ve noticed slight changes at home with my own children. Here, listen in and see for yourself.

12-Year-Old Daughter:  (on her cell) Can’t you see I’m on the phone? How many times have I told you it’s not polite to interrupt?

Me: It’s just that I have a headache. Could you keep it down?

12-Year-Old Daughter: Don’t you take that tone with me! You’re just cranky because you haven’t eaten.

Me:  You’re right.  We should go out for salads.

10-Year-Old Son:  When we want your opinion, we’ll ask for it.

Me: (hanging head) Sorry.

10-Year-Old son:  Look at me when I’m speaking to you. If you can get your shoes on before I can count to three, maybe we’ll go for pizza.

Me:  Oh goody.  Can I get a diet coke?

12-Year-Old Daughter:  We’ll see.

At restaurant:

Me: (Checking out some cute guys at the next table) Wow!

17-Year-Old Daughter: You can look at those things, but don’t touch.

Me: (taking out my calorie counter book, kitchen scale, and diet salad dressing in container) I wonder what I can order that’s on my Weight Watcher’s plan.

17-Year-Old Daughter: (to Waiter)  I apologize for her behavior.  She’s special needs.  ADHD. (Annoying Dame Having Dinner)

All in all, I think I’ll stick with my new preschool program because I finally know what I want to be when I grow up . . . a five-year-old.  Hey, it can happen!

Is youth wasted on the young? How long do you give this new business? What’s Your favorite memory from this age?  Or just leave me an original comment.

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