Another good day, my last day, so as we wind it up, a bit of sadness for both me and Mom. We started out the day by going to the hospital for Mom to receive an immunization booster shot (?). By 'starting out' I mean Mom dragging me out of bed ("I'd like to leave in five minutes, here, huh, Doug?") So I persuaded the nice ladies there to give me a strawberry pop-tart for my missing breakfast. Which they were happy to do, and even toast for me, but Wendy didn't quite know toaster controls, so one burnt set later, Mom and I left the hospital with a fresh package of pop-tarts in hand.
But we didn't have pop-tarts right away ('we' being the royal we. Mom eat pop-tarts, no thank you). Because Mom treated me to fish fillet at McDo. It was supposed to be a DOUBLE fish fillet (I'm lovin' it), but at the counter Mom made a joke to the girl ringing up our order, "I'll have a hazelnut coffee, and for my boyfriend ..."
Mom and I got a lot of mileage out of that one, because I rejoined, "Now, gramma, why you call me your boyfriend all the time?" And then, to the girl: "She's not really my gramma, I'm really her boyfriend."
So both of us were giggling so hard with embarrassment at our foolishness that we messed up the order and only got the single fish fillet, not the double ... oh, the horror!
We stayed at McDo and chatted as I worked on my 'fresh catch of the day' (rectangular fish, it's amazing what the bounty of the seas produce these days). Talking about politics and education and the politics of education, and love, and (real) grandchildren (not silly me, who is, after all, not Mom's grandson).
We returned home and then it was Spring cleaning day. I started doing the dishes and started doing the laundry, but then I got too engaged in some online stuff that time passed and Mom took that over. Oops! I did do the vacuuming, which was a big choir for Mom to get done, including cleaning the vacuum pump/filter (icky job, so I was glad to do it for Mom). Then I had a pop-tart.
And shared some of my writing thoughts with Mom. See, I don't eat pop-tarts, but a certain (fictional) teenage girl, named Bella Swan, does, and I write about her in my stories, so I shared with Mom some of the thoughts eating (one, single) strawberry pop-tart brought to mind in me, and how those thoughts affect some of my readers. Mom was kind and listened. I then finished off the salmon salad Mom had made a couple of days ago (pop-tarts and salmon salad, a well-balanced meal, yes, I know).
Mom called Sissy, her cousin, to see if she'd like to walk with us. Sissy's a senior now, but she looks 35-ish to my eyes, very youthful and cheerful appearance, and she's taken a shine to our family when she visited with Mom a few years ago. Sissy was not available, but she will accompany us to the airport tomorrow afternoon and I think spend some time with Mom after I take wing.
So after chatting with Sissy, Mom and I went for a walk.
We walked around the part of Lake Charles near the boardwalk (which is made of brick, but, oh, well), and it was a rather sunny and warm 70° day, so we stayed mostly in the shade as we walked the streets (such as Pithon (pron: pee-toahn)) and byways.
Then back home, and lounging time. Received a nice call from Beki, and Mom's resting on the couch as I write this missive beside her.