Best laid plans...

So I thought Mom might like to join me in creating a list of clothes, etc. to bring on my trip.  I mentioned how she'd traveled extensively and was a master at packing, etc.  I figured she'd suggest practical things like an umbrella and remind me to pack my passport.  A little "girl time" around the table in the dining room planning a life adventure. Instead, after Mom's initial question as to what the weather would be like, a merry-go-round of questions ensued:  with whom was I traveling? When did I leave? What day was it now? What weather did I expect, With whom was I traveling.... These questions repeatedly surfaced in a 90 second cycle.  Each time I'd give an answer--a short one--and I repeated these so many times that I got as dizzy as if the merry-go-round had sped up and nearly tossed me off.

I was happy to see the dishwasher had worked--yesterday it had seemed to chug on and on without water spraying, but I'd left it to see if it wasn't just "warming up," and that must've been the case, as the dishes were clean today and water sat atop some glasses.  However the microwave took a hit.  Beef stroganoff, baked on and crispy, had blown all over the interior, and after scrubbing a bit, I finally gave in to a cup or two of water in the beast--heat on high for 5 min. to create steam to more easily clean debris.  It worked to some extent.

I was pleased Mom's pants were dry, as yesterday after coffee in the dining room, she'd wondered, "Why do you suppose my pants are wet?"  I asked her if she thought she'd wet herself a bit, and she couldn't remember doing that, but neither could she remember spilling anything.  We simply changed undies and slacks and I tossed the damp stuff into the laundry.

So after safely depositing Mom back to her apartment, laying out clothes for tomorrow, setting the TV to PBS and making sure to remind her to COVER HER PLATE before heating it in the microwave, I escaped to the hall and out the door.  My mission tonight after dinner:  make a list of things to bring on my trip--something I'll do alone.