Strawberry Shortcake...

"Where have you been!?" I asked my father when he called me to come over for my medications. "I called you 3 hours ago!"

I had already crawled into the bed for an afternoon nap when he called me back. I threw off the covers and happily answered the ringing phone expecting it to be him. I was just the tiniest bit peeved as well. Grrrr!

"Andrew, come over and get your meds!"

I arrived at my father's house and climbed the long stairs to his deck and kitchen to greet him. The door was open for me. I was having some spatial and situational awareness problems driving over so I knew then it was not all made up in my head -- no perceived illness here.

"Here is you a Diet Coke and here are your medications," he told me as he put them in my open palms.

"Well, I've been to La Fayette picking strawberries all afternoon and now I am slicing them," my father said as he stuffed a sugary sweet strawberry in my mouth.

It certainly was sweet and delicious.

"Charlie, Janice, and I are making homemade strawberry shortcakes for dessert tonight and we want you to come as well," my father told me.

Dad had enough strawberries to fix strawberry shortcakes for a whole army battalion and was ploddingly slicing more as I headed to my car.