Thursday, March 30, 2006

65 un-invitation

It's not really an "un-invitation" but I guess I'm not welcome at the talk my parents are doing.
I'm baffled. They want to meet articulate people who can tell their real-life Alzheimer's stories. Here I am blogging away. Is there anything more articulate than that? Obviously I'm extremely disapointed. I might write a letter for my parents to bring.
I know I don't LIVE with my dad, but I see him all the time. I went shopping with my parents on Tuesday night and then we had dinner. I saw my father on Friday 3x--for lunch, to go to the vet and to do puzzles. And then again on Sunday. A lot of people don't see their healthy parents that much (my husband for instance, probably only sees his mom once a month or less and she lives a mile away).
My dad was pretty funny at Ruby Tuesday on Tuesday night. I guess my parents just went their last week with my mom's best friend Janet. He had the broccoli, chicken and pasta and liked it according to Mom. I ordered that for him again. He picked out all the chicken and put it on the "fat" plate (it was gorgeous chunks of white meat). He picked off all the melted cheese from the top because it was crusty. On the way home he said "I didn't like him and I don't want to go to him again." Him=Ruby Tuesday. I think his main complaint was that we weren't at 99, which gives out free popcorn.
We also went to Xpect Discount, which is across the street. The reason we went is because my parents went with Grandma last week and she had some kind of hissy fit because she was tired and sick and having a bad day and wanted to go home immediately. And I needed hair dye (always a priority, especially when my coupons are about to expire).
The first thing my dad said was "I never heard of this place. I've never been here." It's been there for probably 20 years. And he was there last week. My mom and I confused him because she would go down one aisle and I'd go down another and he would hover, not knowing who to follow with the carriage. I'd dump an armload of hair dye or whatever into the carriage and walk away and he'd be forced to stop and neatly arrange it all. How does he ever go grocery shopping with his OCD of everything having to be perfectly aligned and neat? And then he'd have to explain that he rearranged the cart and show me what he did and where it used to be. Sigh.
I was feeling really bad about not being able to go on vacation this year with them. They're going without me, of course, but still...and then my mom decided to ask Janet to come along, and she accepted, so that should be fun. Janet's never been to Plymouth so they can do all the touristy stuff I'm bored with after almost 30 years of going there. (Wow, has it been that long? I guess so-I was 9 the first time we went and now I'm, I don't know. 36? Does it matter?)

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