People have been blaming The Dog for this or that for about 15,000 years now.
But you still have teeth to use that toothpaste on, so you’re not all THAT senior 
I’d post about my senior moments… but I can’t remember them. That truly is a mercy, right?
I blame my cats all the time.
“Shadow, what did you do with my purse this time?”
I had cataract surgery in late 2018 (and I was less than 60 at the time, how’s THAT for a senior moment?) and have had a lot of that sort of thing. I now only wear glasses routinely to use on the computer - though I admit I need them more than that, for reading my phone or a book.
So I guess an ongoing of series of senior moments would be all the times I cannot read something because the print is too darned small.
Always look under the cats for any given lost item no matter how lumpy or spiky it may be. And especially if it’s the remote control.
I can see how that might be a trigger for you. 
Ooh, I have a good one.
A while ago while at work I wanted to test my outgoing message so I called my desk phone with my cell phone just to hear it. I clicked off my cell and about, oh, 4 seconds later noticed the message light flashing on my desk phone.
“Oh, somebody called”, I said to myself.
mmm
So rude that they didn’t leave a message.
Ha. Part of having ADHD means that I have been forgetting where I’ve left things since I learned how to walk and carry things at the same time. Right now I’m baffled as to where I could possibly have put a package of 15 rolls of paper towels. I know that they were delivered a couple of months ago and must be in the cellar. somewhere. Likewise, I’ve also intractably lost a brand new bathroom faucet set…
I had cataract surgery in my forties. It’s like my friend who had a grandchild when she was 33 and decided being a gramma wasn’t a sign of old age: cataract surgery doesn’t seem like an old person’s disease to me.
I was looking for my left walking shoe this morning. I always take them off in the mud room. It was upstairs in my bathroom.
Now what was that that?
More than a senior moment, more like abject insanity.
How about going to the refrigerator, opening the door, and then suddenly wondering if you wanted to take something out or put something in?
I’m going to use this!
Just had coffee with a friend who said she was just diagnosed (at 50), and I fist bumped and said “Welcome aboard! It’s a blast! … not for anyone who has to live with you, but you’ll be having so much… squirrel!”
And if you’re looking for your paper towels, they may not be in the cellar. A true ADHD’er could’ve put them down somewhere totally unrelated while tying a shoe, and they’re still there, next to the new bathroom faucet set… (attic? garage? Kalamazoo? Anywhere’s fair game in our multi-faceted world…)
A very dear friend of my Wife’s sent her a card that read -
“We’ll be friends until we are old and senile. And then we’ll be friends again!”
She sent it to my Wife twice.
Either very clever, or…
In the vein of AHDH or senility or both …
Years ago I saw a cute/funny greeting card. The cover art showed two 30-ish women enjoying wine while chatting cattily in an outdoor cafe. Both have brown hair. The speech balloon has one saying to the other: “Do you know why blondes have more fun?”.
When you open the card the punchline says “Because their attention span is so short everything always seems new and exciting!”
My non-ADHD very non-senile wife had dark brown hair but worked with a classic blonde ditz. I gave my wife the card and we had a laugh about it. I kept the card and over the years gave it to her another dozen times when something especially ditzy or repetitive occurred in our lives.
Gray is a form of blonde … I think?
I remember complaining about one ache or another to my doctor, and she said, “Maybe it’s just aging.”
I looked straight at her and said, “Now that’s just mean.”
~VOW
Years ago I was sitting in the living room and thought of something I needed to do in the kitchen. I got up and went in there to do it, but then couldn’t remember what it was, so I went back to the living room and sat back down. Then I remembered what it was. So I went back to the kitchen, and discovered that I had already done it. Soon I couldn’t remember what it was, anyway.
Ok, so I actually read an explanation for why that happens as you age. Unsurprisingly, it’s about the neuroplasticity of your brain.
If I remember correctly, effectively deep in your DNA, survival tactics kick in whenever you go through a threshold. Because you can’t see anything beyond the doorframe it imagines danger awaits on the other side, and temporarily drops every thought, to be at the ready should you be pounced upon, just as you pass through. When we’re younger, that signal unfailingly picks up right where it was, once you’ve passed through the threshold and no danger manifests, so you can easily remember why you came into the kitchen.
But as you age, it’s harder for your brain to reconnect to that thought you were having. So, whenever you’ve lost the thought, when you get to the kitchen, it’s partly because of how many thresholds you passed through.
Surprisingly, it explains why, when you give up and go back to the living room you suddenly remember. The article suggested you check, next time it happens and see if you haven’t just breezed through a couple of thresholds! (I checked, and it is very often the case for me!)
I knit and buy baggies of little scissors at a time because I know I won’t be able to find them when I need to snip (I see four at my desk as I type this, there are at least two on the coffee table ten feet away, and I know the next time I need them, I’ll have to look).
This, every word of it.
From a historical perspective, we are wildly successful, us old enough to be called old.
Eta, and forgetful