I’m not so sure about my parents these days.
I don’t think they are losing it.
Well, maybe.
OK. NO. They’re fine. I think.
The other day I called Mom and asked her if it was OK if I invited some friends to my parents home on Sunday.
My friends’ Mom had passed away only two days earlier at the age of 63.
Mom said it would be fine and that she had meat we could have for dinner.
“Some man was selling meat out of the back of a truck the other day and …”
“Out of the back of his truck?” I asked. “Was it Schwan’s?”
“No. I don’t know who it was.” ”
Some guy sold you meat out of the back of a track, you don’t know who it was, but you bought it anyhow?”
“What? I asked him how he kept it cold. He said he had dry ice. He was from some place up in Binghamton.”
“Right. Um…ok? Well…” ”
We ate fish from there earlier this week and it was fine.”
“Um…OK…”
“So we have fillet mignon wrapped in bacon. It’s frozen. I’m sure it will be fine.”
In Mom’s defense, so far I have not yet thrown up or blacked out, so I guess it was OK.
Sunday night I left my laptop charger at their house, about 45 minutes from my house.
Hubby volunteered to go pick it up the next day.
Instead Dad called Monday morning and spoke to Hubby, who told me Dad had sent my charger to our town with some man driving a big red tractor trailer.
“What?! First buying meat out of the back of a truck and now sending my charger with some guy in a tractor trailer?”
This is what I thought at first, but then later learned that Dad had actually sent my charger with a co-worker of his, who was coming to my town to make a delivery.
Guess my parents aren’t losing it after all. I guess. We’ll see.
