Cases in point, by Thursday, the laundry pile was bigger than what you see in front of a Salvation Army donation center. I considered bringing it there to be done with it.
It’s a good thing Mom taught our son how to take his own meds, because if he had to rely on me, by Friday he’d have been in rehab.
Our daughter bore with my inability to remember simple reminders like, “Dad, I get out at 12:45 today.” Keeping her staggered schedule straight was beyond my chronological abilities. Tuesday I was 30 minutes late and Wednesday I showed up an hour early.
Fortunately, there are no jokes to tell about meals. Since we started crock potting eight months back, I roll three pounds of chop meat into little balls, pour in a can of crushed tomatoes and voila, the kids favorite meal is served…after THEY boil the spaghetti.
The one family member in the most danger by Mom’s absence was our new pup Kiwi, although not from HIS perspective. It took four days to figure out I was filling his doggy dish with TREATS instead of nutritious doggie food. The darn things look almost identical. The little scamp was chowing junk food all week and LOVED IT! Hopefully he won’t get a doggie stroke from clogged arteries.
Thank God she’s back. Our daughter now has reliable transportation. Our son is chemically balanced and the dog has been placed on a remedial Jenny Craig pet diet. The kids and I are organizing a N.M.T.F.M. (No More Travel For Mom) petition so I can focus on my specialty, making meatballs. See ya next time!