Martha, My Mother, is Calling...

"Alright Martha!" my father exclaimed with a chuckle when I called and asked for my medications before he left home for the Auburn game.

"It is going to be before noon," he trepidatiously told me. "Don't you think that is too early?"

It probably is, but I don't want to wait until midnight to get my medications either. I am going to be a riverboat gambler and hope things turn out okay. Either way you look at it, it is a lose/lose situation.

"I will be fine hopefully," I then complacently told my father. "I don't think I can bear waiting until way late tonight."


Beautiful BLTs!

Charlie and my father were eating some very delicious looking bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches for supper when I arrived at my father's house last night. Charlie offered to fix me two sandwiches, but I declined not wanting to take my medications on a full stomach.

"I am moving back to the Valley (to his newly purchased house) and selling my house in West Point," Charlie told me excitedly.

I offered my help in moving and Charlie said he was going to take me up on that. I may be mentally disabled, but I am not physically disabled. I have a strong back and can help.

Dad had been drinking some wine and I didn't want him to drive over and give me my medications last night so I took the initiative and drove over there instead. Dad was still in his pajamas after a long afternoon nap. He was a little giddy as well from the wine acting silly talking about how relaxed his pussy (cat) was in her leather chair. Charlie just rolled his eyes at me which made me smile broadly and then laugh.

"Y'all better not be talking about my pussy!" dad loudly said from the den.

Dad was then clumsily giving me my medications when he dropped a pill.

"Where did it go?" dad asked perplexed looking all over the floor.

"It fell into one of your bedroom slippers," I explained.

Dad removed his slipper and out rolled a lithium pill.