My Turn to Pass the Salt

Desiree

My Turn to Pass the Salt

Desiree
salt-shaker-188532_640I'd just gotten Grandma and myself home from the MRI appointment (three hours!) when the phone rang. It was my dad, he's "just calling to say hi, how's it going, etc".  Grandma obviously hadn't called him yet about her fall, and what followed. Ordinarily I'd let her do that, it's what she prefers. But I'm not gonna lie to my Dad, or refuse to share information. So yeah, I told him the Reader's Digest version. After which, he got to the real reason why he'd called.

Apparently my mom had told him she'd gotten a call from me, telling her all about the lovely, week-long vacation we were taking to celebrate Father's Day. Yep, we're going out of town, out of state even! Gonna leave it all behind for a whole week of decadent, sybaritic, alcohol-and-buffet fueled poolside pleasure! (Damn, sounds great! Where are we going, anyway?)  Dad was understandably concerned. Nobody had mentioned it to him. Were we just gonna take off, and leave Grandma to her own devices?

Honestly....!



We haven't gone anywhere for more than a couple of hours in years! And when we do (which is seldom enough) I always 1) make sure Grandma's okay enough at the moment, to be on  her own for a couple of hours, and 2) I always, always call Dad well in advance to let him know. Spontaneity has no place in our lives anymore. Sigh.

So, yeah, here's the salt shaker Dad.

Next time, let's make it some of that Himalayan pink stuff. We both like that, right?

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