It’s Monday again. Grocery day. My favorite day. They seem to come faster and faster the older I get – these Mondays. Weeks fly by at the drop of a hat, Tomorrow would also be the traditional day that I would get my injection of Risperdal in the old derrière. I shuddered at the thought of that. Let’s give praise that those days are over. I much prefer to take the pills. It was a nerve wracking “adventure” every two weeks to get those injections.
“Hey!” Mom exuberantly said as she pulled up to the curb with my groceries and rolled down the driver’s side window. Maggie could hear her car several blocks over and alerted me she was on the way. I was waiting on mom outside when she pulled up. “I got you extra V-8 juice and hot sauce this time."
“Thanks, mom!”
I started to drag in my groceries as I told mom to look at the dogs yelping and barking on the back of the couch. They were so excited to see her.
“I guess this means I should come inside and see them,” mom said slowly and begrudgingly getting out of the car.
Any “accepted” visitors are warmly welcomed inside by Maggie and Caramel. The guy trying to mow my lawn a moment ago got a good “Get the hell away!” maniacal barking session from Maggie and Caramel.
2 comments:
Your mom loves taking care of you and that makes me smile. I keep meaning to ask you how you are doing with your smoking. Have you been able to stop?
How come you have some guy mowing your yard? Did you give up your lawn care service?
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