Dad called me at 6:00 pm tonight.
"You okay Chuck?" he asked. "You really scared me last night."
"I'm fine today," I told him. "I just slept 13 hours so I should be doing well."
"I will try not to dilly dally around tonight and will be over pretty early to give you your medications," my father replied.
I thanked him for that.
Mom then called and had a care package for me to pick up. She had placed toilet paper and paper towels and also my Cokes on the back porch. The back door was open which meant The Secretary was receiving. We talked for awhile. It was good talking to mom this afternoon. Mom wrote on Dad's grocery list that I needed vanilla ice cream and premium apple topping.
"He'll never remember if you just tell him," mom explained to me.
Dad told me not to dare tell my mother I only got $45 worth of groceries, though. She would drive him crazy with worry and inquisition.
Mom asked me how I used to always stay drunk even when I didn't have money years ago out of curiosity.
"A good way I used to go get wine was to tell you I wanted some drinks and sodas from downstairs. Dad keeps a lot of wine in that fridge and I would open the garage door and put some of the wine in my car," I told my mother with a smile. "I would walk back up the stairs with just sodas and leave out the back door. You never knew I was getting wine and dad never seemed to complain about missing any."
"Also," I added. "Dad's, the pharmacist's, bathroom medicine cabinets are a pillhead's dream come true. I would ask to use the bathroom and fill my pockets with all kinds of interesting pharmaceuticals."
"You sneaky little shit!" my mother exclaimed laughing.
I assured my mother that I haven't done all that crazy crap in years now.
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