Ah, yes, another wonderful start to another day in the world of Don. I greet him with a Good Morning, and what does he want for breakfast? I have to run through the menu options at least 3 times before he chooses waffles.
Part of the daily routine is getting him up, sitting in his recliner and finding the morning TV shows he likes while I prep his breakfast and bring him the morning medications. All I get on the TV is snow. I notice that the TV remotes are on the dresser instead of in the drawer where we usually keep them for safety. Safety away from Don. I ask Don what he did to cause the TV to malfunction? Of course, he denies any responsibility.
I summon Mr. Fixit to the bedroom for TV malfunctions or repairs. I have no idea what Don has done. We form a 3-person committee and we figure out how to fix the problem. Don, who is all but furious as we are fumbling around in front of the TV and blocking his view, utters: “It always rolls over to IGF.” All talking stops. Don is clueless, and this is the look I get from Mr. Fixit.
He looks at me, and I mouth the word, “whatever” with no sound. There is really nothing else to say. I leave the room to go get Don’s breakfast. The committee has been decommissioned.
Note to Self: This Labor Day is going to be just that. Another day of laboring over logical vs. illogical awaits, and I won’t accomplish anything productive.