Lindsay Woods: 'My forgetfulness results in a new version of the Walk of Shame'

Once upon a time, I would roll my eyes as my mother, mid rage, reeled off every other name except mine, which only served to escalate her ire at whatever it was I had done. Internally, I scoffed (I mean, I did not exactly want to extend the term of my punishment by doing it directly to her face) but now, I scoff no longer.

I can accept the visible signs of aging, the commencement of the decay.