Another day, another week. Everyone around here is getting along.
My Dad is still leaving the door to the basement open every time he walks by it. That's so the cat can go downstairs. Where he can crawl under the house and get fleas, and waller in the corner with the leak and get mold in his fur.
Dad's also still filling the cat food dish full to the top every morning and evening. While I come along behind him and dump 9/10's of it back in the bag. Why is this important? It doesn't forebode the end of the earth, really. It's just that the food goes stale, for one thing. For another, Dad dumps the leftover in the trash in the morning when and if he remembers to give the cat a package of wet food, or he just dumps the wet food on top of the dry food. I have a real problem with him tossing perfectly good food in the trash. The cat food costs money.
Yesterday at 10:50 p.m. Mom was thumbing through her Bibles looking at every bookmark she has. Ten minutes prior, she was asleep in her chair. I woke her and suggested she go to bed. She started shaking like a leaf and said she'd go in a minute and then dove into the bookmarks. She can't read the Bibles without a magnifying glass. Five minutes later, she wasn't shaking at all but nowhere even close to wanting to go to bed. I finally had to plead, and she did at about 11:30 p.m.
There's really no problem with her staying up except that there's no bedroom for me in their house. So I sleep on the sofa. That's no problem, either; I love sleeping on a sofa. The problem is that Mother will stay up until 2:00 a.m., and Dad gets up between 7:00 and 8:00 a.m. I need some sleep in there somewhere. I also need an hour or so a day when I'm not worried about Dad or what he's getting into and whether or not Mom needs something.
Yesterday Mom discovered her closet. Three times she was in there just looking. She told me she found this closet with all these pretty clothes and that if I needed some I ought to get them. We haven't been able to get her into anything but pajamas for about three months. Now we have to very persistently persuade her to put on clean pajamas; otherwise she'd never change. She's totally forgotten about all her nice clothes, and that closet is the newest thing since sliced bread.