My posts are getting fewer and farther between. Not for one minute does that mean that things are getting normal around here! HA! Far from it! It means that it is Christmas time, and there are things to be done that have a deadline. It also means that my fall semester is over at U of A, and I get on this laptop as little as possible because I live on it during a semester. By the way, I got 2 A's. Still a 4.0! Woo hoo!!!! Okay, on to business....
The grunting is getting more and more and louder and louder. For those of you who don't know. Moma grunts every time she breathes. She can't hear herself, so she isn't really aware that she is doing it, but it gets so OLD hearing it day in and day out. BIG MISTAKE, last night, I had a lapse in memory and thought she might enjoy going with me to the Christmas concert (my daughter's), plus I had NO ONE to sit with her. So, I give her no choice and dress her up, and here we go. I forgot to mention to her that we must be quiet and you might not be able to hear it all. So, first of all, the grunting was louder than usual. Then when the narrator got up to speak the very first words, she says...."They need to turn up his mic or no one will hear him". Okay, everyone in the house heard you. It went big time downhill from there. She spoke out several times, once to let us know that this was the sorriest music she'd ever heard, and when I shh'd her with my finger over my mouth.....SHE MOCKED ME!!!!!!!!! My sister threatened to take her out, but was afraid she'd make a scene. Then once, the grunting was so loud, I leaned over to her ear and said, "Moma, Shhhhhh, you are grunting!" She barked back loud, "I ain't opened my mouth!!" I wanted to fall under the pews. Okay, lesson learned. She goes nowhere that it is necesary to be quiet.
Tonight my sister came up and gave her a bath. I am thankful that she does this or she'd never be clean. I mean, there are just some levels I cannot go to, and that is one. I mop up pee every morning, I am now rinsing her (ewww) teeth, and I can wipe the poop off the toliet seat, but I just cannot bathe her. Old age is awful. It causes you to smell, not care that you are nasty, not care what you say, and be generally obnoxious to people around you. And the worst part is that my grandmother would DIE if she knew she was doing this. But, in my mind, I've already lost my grandmother. This empty shell that lives in my house is a trip and a half. I'm hanging on for dear life, and trying my best to enjoy this ride.
More from the funny farm later.
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