Yessir! That’s my mom!

Mom turned 94 the end of September. She looks pretty good for 94, doesn’t she? We celebrated by going over to the Church of God Home after church and having dinner with her in the private dining room. The deBreuil’s joined us. Beverly has been such a good friend to Mom over the years, visiting her faithfully and playing games with her. It was nice that Beverly and her husband, “What’s His Name?” (as Mom kept calling him) could join us.

Over dinner, we visited and laughed over some of Mom’s exploits at the Home. One recent one sticks out in my mind. I came over one day to visit and as I got ready to leave, I told Mom about a church service later in the afternoon.

“You’ll have to go to that, Mom,” I said.
“Can’t,” said Mom.

“Why not?” I asked. “Are you grounded?”

“Yup,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

“Gee, why? Did you kick someone when you were walking down the hall?”, I said, only half seriously.

“Guess so,” she answered. “Kicked them right in the knees.”

“Mom!” I laughed, pretending to be shocked. Just then a nurse walked in with Mom’s dietary shake. “I hear my mom’s on lock-down,” I laughed.

“Well,” she said somberly, “We’ve had to insist that she not leave the wing unless someone is with her because she tends to forget how to get back to her room. We’ve had to go looking for her several times. Haven’t we, Marguerite?”

“Maybe,” said Mom, giving me a sly wink.

“And here I thought it was because she was kicking people in the halls,” I laughed.

“Oh no, ” replied the nurse. “She doesn’t do that.”

“I threw a shoe at my roommate the other day,” Mom proudly announced to the room.

Two pairs of eyes swung in her direction.

“You did WHAT?”, I squeaked.

“Well, I woke up in the morning and couldn’t hear Rhoda snoring. So I called her name but she didn’t answer me so I threw my bedroom slipper at her,” said Mom.

“Hit me right in the head,” said Rhoda. “I was actually sleeping pretty good, too.”

“Why in the world did you do that, Mom?” I asked.

“I thought she was dead,” Mom said flatly. “So I threw my shoe at her and that got a rise out of her.”

“It’s OK,” Rhoda assured us. “She didn’t hurt me.”

“Next time, Mom, just ring for the nurse. Don’t throw anything at Rhoda, please.”

“Yes, Dear!” answered Mom sweetly.

Yessir! That’s my mom!

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