My friend Sheri told me to make sure that I don't do any dishes on that day. I told my friend Sheri that she needed to tell that to Rick.
So Mother's Day arrives and we are at a big affair for my aunt. Her 80th birthday. A big buffet lunch where you fill your plate with the salads, return for your meats and return for your desserts. Three trips, right?
Once we are seated and have gotten our instuctions on how to dine and weave through the lines, Rick asks me to get his plate for him. Since this is something I naturally do, since he's on a cane, well, I do it.
Round two and Rick repeats his request, instructing me to give him more prime rib this time around. Which I do. Never mind that it's Mother's Day. Never mind that I have a bandaged ankle.
Fast forward to Mother's Day evening. We are home and Liz decides to take the dog for a walk. And would I join her?
Is my ankle invisible?
Around 8:00 pm, after I'd cleaned the downstairs living room, Rick asked me what was for dinner. I decked him. I think his lips will unswell by Friday.
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