The Christmas season is annoying the heck out of me. Homes are decorated and the stores are reminding me to make my list and check it twice. I'm just not ready. Our Indian Summer gave us temperatures in the mid-seventies this week.
Two bagged Christmas trees have been laying on the floor of my dining room since Saturday. I just walk by them, wearing my sandals, t-shirt and shorts. Looks pretty bad, but I'll assemble them in a day or two. I'll definitely decorate them over the weekend. I do love Christmas trees...
I had an interesting conversation with my brother the other day. He picked up Dad from the nursing home and brought him to his house for Thanksgiving Dinner with the whole family, in-laws included.
His oh-so-serious comment to me was, "Dad is really slipping fast, Mare."
"Oh, what is it?" (Nothing surprises me anymore.)
"You should have seen him at the table. Eating with his fingers - I had to tell him to pick up his fork ten times! Finally, I just fed him, then rolled him in front of the TV in the family room."
"There's nothing you can do about it, Victor. He's more senile these days and you just need to accept it."
"Yea. I know. But then later, I looked over at him watching TV and he was eating the drawstring on his pants!" (This is when I lost it...choking back the laughter, although he could have choked to death.)
He heard my muffled laughter and shot at me, "Mare, it's not funny! I'm tired of his antics!"
Still holding back a guffaw, "Oh, just lighten up Francis! I agree that it's not really funny, but sometimes you gotta relax and stop worrying about every little hiccup. Laugh a little, will ya?"
I'm telling my brother to relax and all the while I'm wondering if there's something wrong with me, laughing at something so sad.
This conversation brought to mind my father's newly acquired conversational skill of mocking and it can be quite frustrating unless you have a good sense of humor. Here's an account of a conversation between the two of them a few months ago while Dad was still living at home.
Victor: "What do you want to watch on TV, Dad?"
Dad: "What do you want to watch on TV, Dad?"
Victor: "I'm not Dad!"
Dad: "I'm not Dad!"
Victor: "Want the History Channel?"
Dad: "Want the History Channel?"
Victor: "I said that!"
Dad: "No, I said that!"
Victor: "Get your hand out of your pants!"
Dad: "Get your hand out of your pants!"
Victor: "I said that! Stop it!"
Dad: "I said Stop It!"
Victor, under his breath, "I'm caring for a freaking parrot."
Your sense of humor will get you through. If you don't need to be serious, smile and nod, laugh with gusto, and be silly when you can. It will do your heart good.
A sunny subject: Bella, soaking up the rays and enjoying a new chewy.