Where should I start?

Hoo boy! She has done so much lately....where can I begin?

Wednesday, the new sitter had to wrestle a chicken bone from her gnarly little hands. She had every intention of feeding the dogs. When I got home, the sitter was worn out. Before the poor woman left, Moma said to her, "I don't appreciate you telling on me".

Thursday evening, she was brand new again. She looked at our new church directory and could not find my parents' picture (that would be because there is no branch of Olan Mills in Heaven to make their picture). She found my sister but never mentioned my picture at all. She tried all night to slip something to the animals; ice cream, cracker, cookie, chocolate milk.....ugh.

Friday when I got home, Moma was asleep. The sitter had taken her out for ice cream and she had laid down afterward. I was busy settling in for the day when I heard her staggering through the house praying and moaning. I met her at the den door. "Moma, what is wrong?" She was shaking her head (hard) from side to side. "Something is wrong with me. I am going crazy!" Long story short, this episode lasted a good 15-20 minutes of her carrying on about feeling crazy and aching all over, and of course her famous line of not being about to explain it. Oh I can't forget that she kept complaining of being nervous. I gave her a random dose of 1 Tylenol and told her it was for her nerves. I instructed her to come into the den with me and sit down in front of the television and get her mind off her troubles. I went to the computer and paid her no attention, so she launched further into her 18th verse of her favorite song, "I'm dying". "Julie! Who....who can you call to pray for me?" "I'm praying for you Moma", I replied but of course I was praying for her to hush. "Call Sherry....(mumbled lots of totally nonsensical words) She needs to call the doctor." When she got no standing ovation for her performance, she got up. She staggered over to the door and announced that she was going to bed. I got up and followed her to her room to get her settled. I had no sooner stepped across the threshold of the kitchen when I heard her on the baby monitor. "Julie......JULIE.....JULIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I went back down there, and stood in the door for a minute watching her grand finale. "What?" I asked. "Have we got any chocolate milk?" Ugh!!!
So, the next time you think you may be dying, don't hesitate to pour you a big glass of this chocolaty wonder drink. It cures what ails you.