I wiped the sleep from my eyes, put on some shoes, and went and got a cold soda from the fridge. I sat down in front of this computer to try to get my jumbled thoughts and mind together enough to write a decent blog post. My brain was going every which way and that. It was a busy day yesterday -- a day full of those family secrets best forgotten and not talked about. Things swept under the rug as they say.
Mrs. Sandra ran my Mexican meal to me last night. Which kind of alarmed me as it was a very somber occasion indeed. I just knew something bad or crazy had happened.
"What has happened now?" I asked Mrs. Sandra instinctively as her grand-kids jostled in the backseat.
"Andrew?" Mrs. Sandra said. "Your mother's been taking something tonight. She was acting all strange and then she fell into the bushes at the Mexican restaurant and we almost couldn't get her out."
"Sandra, I shouldn't be talking for her, but she is addicted to Xanax," I replied. "She takes up to 12 at a time."
Sandra said my mother could barely get up the steps of their home when my father miraculously arrived home early and took over.
"Your father just told me to bring your meal and then head home," Sandra told me.
"You always call me when something like that happens and I will take care of it," I told Sandra.
2 comments:
Oh my, this doesn't sound good.
Whoops, I didn't mean to send. I was saying, this doesn't sound good, nor safe. Where is she getting these? Didn't her doctor cut her prescription in half?
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