My daughter, Ashley, might begin looking for a nice retirement home for me, and her actions would be justified. You be the judge.
I was watching the morning news and one of the broadcasters opened with today’s date. As he pronounced the words, “June 7th,” I experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d forgotten my youngest granddaughter’s June 6th birthday. What kind of grandmother forgets her sweet grandchild’s sixth birthday?
Immediately I sent off a text:
Within seconds my daughter tweeted her reply:
She did try to give me an excuse. Her oldest child’s birthday is December 6th, after all.
You see from the exchange above that now she’s humoring me. I’ll bet she was looking up names of nice assisted living homes in her area even as she was lol-ing at me.
Testing the waters I texted,
See, now she’s wanting to medicate me.
I hope she finds me a nice place, somewhere with a swimming pool and nail salon. Oh, a wine bar would be nice, too. I’ll go without a fuss.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 