It was bad enough when my watch would vibrate and tell me to stand. I long for the days of that simplicity. One tap would allow me to ignore it and resume watching a reality show about people who fold towels on a yacht, consume copious amounts of alcohol, and sleep with one another.

Much of my parental direction during the decade of my preteen and teen years was focused on saving as much money as possible on life’s daily routines. My parents’ cost-saving and oft-puzzling directives sometimes gave rise to adolescent angst, but, in retrospect, were generally harmless.

Today, several decades later (six decades later for the benefit of full disclosure), these directives still resonate. Some elicit smiles, some trigger nostalgic memories, some prompt wonderment. In fairness to all parties, they were meant to be in the best interest of the entire family long-term, and not intended as punishment (at least that’s what I want to believe!).

Dear Megan,

Hi. It’s me, Sharon. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been invited to my estate, but that’s what bitches like you who insult my swamp villa deserve. Anyway. I’m not writing this out of the goodness of my heart. Oh, no. My husband (Devon) wanted to invite you to some big get-together he’s hosting, and seeing as he’s illiterate, he asked me (begged me) to write it for him.

A year after my son died I found myself in a property dispute about a bench I paid for.

Specifically, about eighteen inches of that bench was currently sitting on my son.

This is not where I expected grief to take me.

Yes, all you wasted Boomers, it’s time once again for your annual Medicare Wellness Exam, paid for by the government, and who doesn’t like a doctor’s visit on Uncle Sam? Along with countless other fossilized subscribers to Medicare.gov, you’ve been getting endless emails from your friendly government to remind you of this all-important yearly ritual, to the point where it looks like the Department of Justice will come looking for you if you skip it. You might even be deported to the southern hemisphere if you fail to show up, and who knows what kind of healthcare they have down there, assuming they have any at all?