It is late last Wednesday night and I am driving my mom home from Urgent Care. She is thanking me profusely for coming with her.
Me: Well, that is what I am here for. Isn’t that the point of me living next door to you guys?
Mom: What exactly is the point of you living next door?
Me: Ha. Ha. Taking care of you in your old age.
Mom: We are NOT going into a Nursing Home, you know.
Me: Well, why don’t you guys make a list of what YOU think would qualify you to go into one and then Tyler and I will make a list too. Then we will compare them. I will NOT be changing diapers.
Mom: All I’m sayin’ is that we are NOT going in one. Jim and I were at Gander Mountain the other day and we have decided we are going to buy a gun and are just going to shoot ourselves when that time comes.
My eyes are rolling into the back of my head and my grip tightens on the wheel and I let out a gigantic sigh.
Mom: Are you okay? Don’t you like driving at night?
I don’t like driving with “crazy” sitting right next to me and right now I am wondering if we still have that little bottle of whiskey over the oven.
Mom: You think I am kidding, but I am not. You have no idea how bad Nursing Homes have gotten.
Now, at this point all I can do is to drive. I am so pissed at these selfish people for the thought of SHOOTING themselves when they get old.
That is so like them.
Don’t they have any idea how much blood will splatter if they shoot themselves?
Do they know how hard that will be to clean?
Don’t they know how that is going to affect the re-sale value of the house?
Can’t they just hop into the car with the garage door closed and turn on the flippin’ car already? It is so much more dignified that way.
Oh yes, and the trip to Urgent Care? She is just fine. Mom was just F.O.S.
That means Full of Shit. I wish our above coversation was the same, but sadly, it wasn’t.