My cousin (our moms were sisters) said, "Your mom was so much fun. When she came to visit my mom, she and I would always sneak outside and smoke. She told me once her doctor had prescribed Percodan for her pain, and she offered me one, so I took it."
What! My sweet innocent little mother? I'm sure she meant well.
She was always dishing out advice...and OMG drugs...but she never took advice. The doctor would prescribe 10 milligrams of something or other for this or that, and she'd say, "No, I am only going to take five, because I know my body better than you do."
I just visited Val's blog, She's on summer break, trying to escape her shadow, other wise known as Hick, her husband. Where she goes, he follows. She slid down the pew at the funeral to talk to her aunt and he followed like a handcuffed prisoner. I know of what she speaks.
I am also on summer break. My late mom, the drug pusher, told me there would be days like this. I thought she was just irritated with my stepdad, her husband of forty plus years.
"You just wait. When they get older, they follow you around."
Not my big guy. He's a busy body. He yaps at the neighbors, his ripening tomatoes, the rabbits procreating in the backyard. He watches sci-fi or OH MY! TV dramas. There's always someone screaming or being shot at or captured in our house. Whatever makes him happy, as long as he allows me time to write in peace.
This evening I went to the kitchen to take my calcium. He stood behind me, CLOSER THAN MY SHADOW and towered over me, and reached into the cabinet for HIS meds.
I went to the computer room to do some writing. He left the moaners and groaners blaring in the living room, and followed me into the office. I sat down to write. He turned on his laptop and cranked up the volume on a You Tube Video about Ford cars or GPS devices that won't take his commands. He looked over at me, "This going to bother you?"
I grunt, "Huh-uh."
I rolled my eyes.
He said, "God bless me." I didn't know if he was asking me to do it, so I allowed him to ask for his own blessing.
Then he rhino blasted again clear across the room.
I stopped typing.
"Bless me. (Not excuse me!) I must be getting old. I only sneeze twice in a row, lately."
"Bless you!" I say as he horse snorted the third one in my direction.
"Is this video bothering you?"
"No, honey." I shut down the desk top computer. He shut down his laptop.
Shadow dancing, that's what we do when we both shove our chairs back and exit the room.
I love my big old guy, and I know he loves me, but sometimes it gets stuffy. Do you know what I mean?