Friday Dialogue

Since I haven’t been getting out much I have not had many opportunities to get involved in conversations with too many folks, besides my dear hubby. This week was different. 

Last Sunday was the birthday of one of my dearest friends. She is a wonderful young lady the same age as my daughter, and she treats me more like the daughter I wish my child was.  We took Jennifer and her family out for dinner to celebrate and had a wonderful time until the check arrived at the table.  Hubby (never good at math) leaned over and ask me how much of a tip to put on the credit card slip. 

Jennifer overheard the amount and quickly told us that was too much.  She felt we were over tipping for the service we received.  This led us into spending an extra half hour taking up the restaurants table while we (Jennifer has worked as a waitress for many years and so did I, plus I once owned my own restaurant.) discussed proper tipping protocol.   When the discussion got to the point of becoming angry we had to finally agree to disagree.  Behind Jennifer’s back, I slipped a fiver on the table to compensate for monopolizing the table longer than we should have on a very busy Sunday.

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 Each Wednesday I drive my 91-year-old Mother and her 85-year-old friend to a neighboring town to bowl.  This week when I arrived at my mother’s house I knew things were going to be different.  I found my mother sitting on the edge of her bedroom chair staring into space.  She did not seem to recognize me at first and when I announced it was bowling day there was no excitement.  I almost had to carry her to the car and still no conversation came from her.  This is a woman who normally chatters constantly.  Before we reached her friend’s house I knew she was skipping bowling this week. I drove the ten miles to the bowling alley and dropped off the friend then headed back to my town to our hospital’s emergency room.  I called my sister at work (Mom lives with her) and learned the entire household had been sick last week and Mom joined them a bit later with a flu-like bug. 

The doctors thought at first that she might have had a mini-stroke. A few tests proved that was not the case.  She apparently was exhausted and so dehydrated from her illness that she was almost catatonic so they kept her overnight. 

Thursday my sister, a sister-in-law and I were sitting with Mom in the hospital waiting for the doctor to release her (she was back to her feisty old self) when she needed to use the restroom. The nurse helped her into the bathroom.  We could hear Mom chastising the nurse for giving her to much toilet paper to use.  The three of us looked at each other and began to laugh hysterically.  Toilet paper among many other things, we’re not to be wasted in our house growing up. 


This was followed by a lengthy conversation about my mother’s philosophy that two sheet of toilet paper was all that was needed for even the worst of bathroom encounters.  My sister and I took turns trying to explain to our sister-in-law how we were all taught to fold the paper into a tiny square that allowed us to use eight sides of the paper by refolding it as we went.  Our sister-in-law said that was what her husband still does and told about her efforts to change him.  That will never happen, it was too ingrained in us.  Heck, I still do the same fold to this day but with more than two sad, thin little sheets.  Oh well, guess you had to be there.