Yesterday started off as a big ole clusterfuck. I took Mom to the imaging place for her upper G.I. X-rays. She forgot to bring the scrip with her (oopsie). After sitting there for about 10 minutes after signing in, and not being called up to fill out paperwork, she went back up to the desk and spoke to the receptionist. They didn't have an appointment for her and THEY DON'T EVEN DO UPPER G.I.s. It's possible that Mom got confused. It's also quite likely that her kooky doctor told her the wrong fucking place. Thankfully, the imaging place is across the street from the hospital, so we zoomed over there, and yes, they had her appointment. After a phone call, they were able to get the scrip faxed and all was OK.
While we were waiting for Mom's turn, we saw possibly the world's cutest little boy. He was probably around 5 years old and was very talkative. He was sleepy and kept asking his mom why he can't fall asleep at night. After being asked several times and answering several times, she said "Well, you should try to go to sleep instead of playing with your truck." His eyes must have popped out in surprise because she continued on "You thought I didn't know about that?" To which he replied "Talk to the hand. Close your mouth and talk to the hand." I nearly died he was so cute. Mom and I just cracked up.
After taking Mom home, I went home and crashed on the spare bed in our pretty sagey-green spare bedroom. I *love* the color we chose. The dog and various cats cuddled with me as I dozily listened to Dr. Joy Browne. Later I sat on the porch and read some more of "The Beauty Myth".
I waited around for the cable guy, who didn't even show until about 5:30, but it was great anyway. I was so relaxed, I even cooked a real dinner: marinated, breaded chicken breasts, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes, and salad. I wish I had the energy and time to cook like that every night.