living with my parents has been quite the adjustment. there is a give-take involved that we are all still getting used to….
my stepfather, age 85, has been to the ER five times since October. i’ve either taken him or followed afterwards. i simply call ahead now and tell the hospital we’re on the way, and someone is waiting outside with a wheelchair. it’s rather like fast food for the infirmed….also, one of the benefits of living in a small town. it’s gotten to the point that often I’ll order a pizza for us in triage, and an extra for the ER staff….they like the vegetarian with extra black olives.
in between these ER visits, i came home one night to find my stepfather on the floor in the kitchen. the following conversation ensued:
Me: what happened??!
Him: clearly, i fell.
Me: yes, but, what happened?
Him: i was letting the dog in.
Me: well, gosh, don’t let the dog out anymore. she’ll be fine until we get home.
Him: i didn’t let her OUT, i let her IN.
Me: okay, well, who let her out?
Him: oh, i did that, too.
Him: it’s in my room.
Him: i don’t need it.
Me: this is the third time you’ve fallen, you do need it.
Him: yes, but it’s only the FIRST time since i got the necklace.
my mother, too, is having some growing pains with the fact they may actually need me in the house. example A:
Her: you know, I’ve been thinking….perhaps you didn’t get that job A because you’re living with us and it looks like you’re not as responsible as they’d like.
Me: (nodding head slowly and waiting a beat for timing)….yeah, yeah, that could be it. OR, perhaps I didn’t get it because they already had someone in mind. cause I’m betting I look like a daughter who’s moved in to help out her elderly parents.
note to readers: that did not go over well.
my mother is an artist and grocery shopping is the farthest thing from her mind, unless she’s buying rotisserie chicken or cigarettes. on the flip side, my stepfather uses those caveman-hunting skills to snag the best bargain ever. forget that none of us will eat/use the product, it was on sale, damn it. currently, he has more than 15 new packages of razors in his sock drawer. yes, i counted. yes, i took some and are now using them to shave my legs, sue me.
it is practically slaying the man that I am now the one doing the shopping. it is practically slaying me, as well.
Him: where are you going?
Me: i’m running to Kroger to get some cilantro.
Him: i need you to pick up a few things…hold on a moment.
a half an hour later, he hands me a list with, i kid you not, twenty items listed. he then must review the list with me to ensure i have the proper understanding of this week’s savings, and he requests that i pick up the flyer to read before i start the shopping process.
last week, i scored $58 in savings in one visit. yay me! however, i didn’t receive the $1 off coupon savings i’d handed them, so he sent me back to the store to request it for him. once again, i kid you not…..but i did it, and he received that dollar savings.