February 15, 2012: Jiggity Jog.

            Back to Phoenix, and my life.

            Last night, Todd picked me up from the airport and took me to my favorite local restaurant, Posh, for a Valentine’s dinner. It was nice. Posh doesn’t have a menu; diners receive a little card on which they can check off food they don’t like to eat. Then the chef, Josh, makes gourmand entrees for each diner. I got foie gras (my favorite), escargot, and squid stuffed with mushrooms. Todd had monkfish liver, duck, and braised endive.

            We got home and swapped Valentines (and, no—that’s not a euphemism for anything). It was nice to see the cats, and horrible to plow through two weeks’ worth of mail.

            This morning, I’m back to playing Nice Nursey for Mom and Dad. (Have I mentioned that I’ve been taking care of my parents these last five years? I think I have. I come over to their house each morning and, well, that’s another blog entry.) My father has apparently stopped saying “Hello” and “please” and “thank you” to me. This morning he said, “Pay these!” then shoved a couple of utility bills at me. Later, he muttered, “Make me a sandwich!”

            My trip to Ohio was lovely, Dad. Thanks for asking.

            My mother is the same as ever. Every once in awhile she surprises me with something hilarious, and I want to say to her, “Hey. You have Alzheimer’s. You’re not supposed to be smart or funny anymore!”

            Today I was cutting a couple hundred Tylenol tablets in half with Dad’s little pill cutter, because my mother won’t take pills that aren’t dainty. She looked up from the book she was reading and said to me, “That would go a lot faster if you cut two of them at a time.”

            Of course she was right.

 Thing I Hate Today: Being back.


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