Today I went shopping for kitchen tiles and cabinets, and also spent the better part of the evening arguing with Bell Audi over my A6 '06. It has been in service more than 300 days in the last three years. Even my mom who has dementia knows the service history of my car. It is amazing that she can remember when my car is in service and she can't remember from day to day that she is sitting in my living room and not a fancy hotel where the service is good but sometimes the chef is not in so she has to eat pizza.
Yes, you guessed it. I am the chef and tonight we ate pizza. It's not that she doesn't like it, but she would rather eat calzone which I ordered as well. The aid tried to cut my mom's slice, but she would have none of that. After all my mom is Italian and more importantly a Sicilian! Obviously, the aid is not Italian, and worse than that is not Sicilian. I'm sure you can guess who won this argument. Don Corleone has nothing on my mom, dementia or no dementia. Crazy Joe Gallo wasn't half as crazy as Jeanne, my 92 year-old mother.
As we ate, Smalls, the rottie, was in the kitchen, which is not the norm, but tonight I forgot to put the gate up. He was under the table with his head between Jeanne's legs trying to catch the morsels of food that escaped my mother's dentures.
"Can you believe this guy," my mom says. "What does he think I have there, food?"
It was so hard for any of us to keep a straight face. We never know whether we should laugh or cry because she is just so funny in her simple innocence. In the meantime, Nathan, the dachshund is under the table under her chair waiting for the droppings that Smalls misses. The scene was like watching Cirque du Soleil - The Crazy Edition. I could sell tickets for seats at my dinner table. It's better than the Marx brothers falling out of a closet.
Anyway, tomorrow night the dogs shall remain in the hall during dinner. At least this way we can avoid a three ring circus from occurring under the table.
No comments:
Post a Comment