In my parents' home:

1) In one desk drawer where they do their bills, there sits easily 15-20 long, well-sharpened pencils with full erasers.

(Will they manage to use them all, before...?)

. . . 

2) My mother pulls out a tube of sunscreen for me, and we have to turn another light on to see the soft imprint of the expiration date that's printed on the crimped edge of the tube.

"I think it's 2022," I'm like.

"No, it can't be," she was like. "Let me get a magnifying glass."

And, it is indeed 2022.

So, she pulls out a spray-can of sunscreen, out of the same medicine-cabinet where the tube of sunscreen came from.

"Here, use this," she's like.

But, before that, we also look for the expiration date on that, and we find it printed on the concavely-curved shiny metal bottom of the can, and it also turns out to be 2022.

"That's bad," she's like.

. . .