It seems to me, that after thousands of years of youngers caring for the elderly, the public sector would have come up with a special code for communication.


You know: when going to the bank with your 90-year-old mother, wouldn’t it be nice to simply wave your little pinky—and the bank teller would immediately know, “This one’s a little deaf!  Speak loudly!”


Or an arch of the right eyebrow would mean, “My mom’s got the mental ability of a 5-year-old—go slow and simple!”


A left eyewink says:  “This old geezer is sharp as a tack, don’t try to pull anything over on him and DON’T treat him like a child!”


My family, being more practical-minded, says it wouldn’t work after a while.  We youngers would grow old and know the code.  “Ah, “ but my husband says with a scratching of his chin,  “you could counter-code back.  This means ‘I’m not as crazy as she thinks!’”