Chick Magnet

Karl is such a good son. He takes Dair to NC to visit her home several times a month. While in NC, they visit folks at the nursing home and Dair's friend who works at the library. I usually stay home during these trips since we've got a child and dogs that need to be looked after. However, I may need to start going along on these trips. Karl told me recently that having Dair along is like having a puppy. When they go out to eat and Dair excuses herself to go to the restroom, all the attractive waitresses stop by and tell him "how cute and spunky" they find Dair.

Don't Vote For Me

Even though Dair has excellent hearing aids, she often has trouble hearing what is said to her, especially on the phone. We have encouraged her to just let the answering machine pick up when no one else is around to answer it, but she just can't stand to let a phone ring. So, she answers, and then yells to the person on the other end; frustrating for all involved. I have to admit that I do enjoy it when she talks to the telemarketers. The other night I couldn't get to the phone before she did, and I realized that it was someone working on behalf of the presidential campaign. I was doubled over with laughter as she carried on a long conversation with this poor campaign volunteer, telling him all about her personal life. Then she finally told him, "No, I don't want to be President."

Sights That Should Never Be Seen

We had some friends over recently to sit around our fire pit in the back yard. It was one of those nights when everyone's kids were out doing whatever it is teenagers do to avoid hanging out with their parents, so it was just adults around the fire pit. It was a lovely evening, and after a while, Dair went in the house to get ready for bed. Usually she says she's getting ready for bed, but then she reappears frequently for the next couple of hours, no closer to turning in for the night. Well, I guess she was pooped this particular night, because she actually did change into her pj's. We learned this when the teenage sons of our guests dropped by and were greeted at the front door by Dair in nothing but a sports bra and Depends. I guess we'll be paying for the boys' psychotherapy in a few years!