My Mother The Dowager Duchess is coming home Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. She’s been making great strides. She must be feeling better; she’s been ordering me around… Even more than usual.
The week after surgery, she commanded, “Pillow!”
I adjusted her pillow.
Then she commanded me to, “Pour out that water. Refill it with ice and fresh.”
I asked, “What’s the magic word?”
She looked at me curiously — and imperiously — and queried, “Abracadabra?”
I excused all that figuring it was the pain killers and she wasn’t responsible for her behavior.
But late last week as I folded a pair of her slacks, she said, “Not like that. Do it right. And refold those T-shirts.”
“You know,” I said. “You could say ‘please.’ “
Her response that time: “Why?”
|CLICK ANY IMAGE TO INCREASE THE MAGIC.|
During Physical Therapy Tuesday, the therapist asked The Dowager Duchess where I was.
My mother told her, “I gave him the day off.”
I’ll start sharing the photos from my exceptional “day off” later this week.
|MY FEET IN THE ATLANTIC.|
|BELLY-UP CRAB WITH ONE BLUE CLAW.|
|A QUIET WEEKDAY ON THE BEACH AT CONEY ISLAND.|
|STILL ROOM FOR ANOTHER KITE OR TWO.|
|NOT THE DOWAGER DUCHESS.|
|MAYBE IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS.|
|MY NEW WORKOUT BUDDIES?|
|ON SECOND THOUGHT.|
|THE GUY AT LEFT COULD MAKE HIS TATTOOS DANCE.
(AND I COULD HAVE LIVED WITHOUT SEEING IT.)