Symptoms include confusion, embarrassment, loss of memory…

Descendant Induced Memory Deficiency. You know you’ve got it when you and your husband sit around trying to figure out the age of your oldest daughter. I thought she was six, he thought she was seven. We tried to remember the year she was born, but got the date wrong. Tried to count it by the year we were married, but were wrong about that, too. Finally, we figured it out by counting up from Bitty’s age. Thankfully, Bitty just had a birthday so we knew how old she was.

This isn’t the first time we’ve forgotten somewhat vital information about our family. I think the more kids you have, the less space is left in your brain for remembering things like birthdays, social security numbers, or taking the keys out of the ignition before locking your car.

I tell someone my age is “twenty-seven” and Jon reminds me that I’m twenty-eight.

I go to visit a friend, whose house I’ve been to several times, and end up knocking at a strangers door.

I walk out of the grocery without my groceries.

I consistently call my best friend’s number when trying to reach my husband.

I once hung up on a car insurance salesman asking what kind of car I drive, too ashamed to admit I couldn’t remember.

I’ve made more U-turns than I care to admit, burned more dinners than Mr. Mom, and have forgotten my own wedding anniversary on two separate occasions (the good news is that my husband forgot it, too. Or is that the bad news?)

Bitty just came in to ask me where I put her blocks. I don’t know, honey. Look in the refrigerator.