I confess: I have the flu. And this is now my life:
I confess: I work with kids. (Most of the people I work with on a daily basis are in their early twenties.) And they do not get many of my references. I said something about walking around like Mr. Magoo and they had no idea. (Granted, Mr. Magoo was before my time, but at least I caught re-runs.) They also weren't aware that Garfield Holiday Specials were a thing, didn't know about the awesomeness that was Muppet Babies, and I could keep going on. It made me feel a little old but also a tiny bit smug. Like, my generation is so much awesome - er than your generation. I imagine every generation feels this way. It was pretty funny, too, because as I explained what some of these things were, they kind of looked at me like "okay Grandma, good story." But you know, not in a mean way. Playful co-worker but also you-are-a-weirdo way.
I confess: I found a Christmas movie that has the plot description "Santa has an allergic reaction to a bunch of cats that stow away on his sled" and I am definitely excited to watch it next time it comes on. (Couldn't watch it because - you know - stupid college football trumps cheesy Christmas specials.)