Fading, Fading...
First thing this morning my mother found the plastic bag of advertising that came with yesterday's Telegraph- and went through it item by item.
"What's this?"
"Advertising"
"I don't know what this is."
"More advertising."
"What's this?"
"It's all advertising. Take my word for it."
"What's this?"
Well, you get the idea.
When she'd been through it all- and I'd removed the pile from sight so she didn't go throught it again- she gazed into her empty cereal bowl and asked, "What do I do now?"
"What's this?"
"Advertising"
"I don't know what this is."
"More advertising."
"What's this?"
"It's all advertising. Take my word for it."
"What's this?"
Well, you get the idea.
When she'd been through it all- and I'd removed the pile from sight so she didn't go throught it again- she gazed into her empty cereal bowl and asked, "What do I do now?"
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that seems a safe activity
since she sounds like she has all her hearing
at least you don' have to follow her on the roof
as she wants to clean the chimney?
she could want to go sky diving
or scooba diving
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dad would have loved music
but the trashed his hearing
so its not an option for him either.
sigh proper "parenting" is just harder sometimes
content is good much better than
wandering around looking for you in the garden
and thinking you are a kid... and not finding you
that can't happen. sigh (nursing home job memories )
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