Knackered is Overjoyed with Benzos

   Hey there, Knackered here.  Home from a summer vacation and the excitement produced by car travel to a remote location and loss of routine, the endless joy of togetherness lives on.

   The Knackered household is enmeshed with kith and kin who linger on to celebrate.  The thunder of little feet and squeal of young voices remind him of times previous when the home was abuzz with teenage music, loud exhaust pipes, and telephones ringing everywhere.

   The cycle of time is endless. It seems like no one ever left, came of age, and moved on in life.  Indeed he should be thankful. Friends down the street have the evidence of ‘failure to launch’ offspring living on in the old family room in the basement. They spend their time playing video games into middle age, emerging only when meals are served. They have yet to learn to do laundry.

   Parent-child relationships have seemingly reversed as his thoughts, and  opinions are critiqued and dismissed.  Discussions about his mysterious ‘health condition’ are held on the patio long after he has retired early in the evening.  A daily miasma of conversation of which he is not privy to.

   The dog, at once overjoyed at the arrival of all parties, has covertly secreted himself somewhere in the labyrinth of toys, luggage, and scattered clothing that adorns most rooms.  Although old and large, the home has quickly filled with dishes, and cast-off snacks which lay haphazardly about.

   Errant blasts from left over fireworks continue to amuse many neighbors at the cost of Knackered’s blood pressure and nervous system.  While away for the celebration himself, many still seem to regret the passing of major hysteria which must now wait until Labor Day to resume.

   Knackered has just returned from his first trip out since the travel debacle of the past weekend.  A provider appointment required his appearance. Escape for a private moment in the auto was cherished.  These kinds of things are not possible in the communal home due to grandchildren who delight in ‘finding him’ anywhere he seeks to retreat.  They squeal with joy as his whereabouts is revealed.

   Despite being ostracized in his elderhood from most relevant conversations, he insists upon maintaining some sense of dignity and influence among the extended family offspring and visitors.  His ‘three day limit’ which has endured for decades still holds true:  end time must come, closure and departure are ironclad.  Additionally, any and all possessions brought in must be carried out.  Nothing new can join what already overfills the generational home.

   By Christmas he hopes his symptoms mellow.  There will be an airline flight to contend with and the holiday crowd is usually more than he can take.  Holiday travel is not his friend.  Of course it’s not.