Me: Hey Daddy!
Dad: Hello!
Me: Are you ready to go?
Dad: Yea
Me: Let's go!
Dad: Wait just a minute.
Me: We need to go. We're blocking someone in.
Dad: Okay
Me: Tell everyone bye.
Dad: Bye
Dad: Is this your car?
Me: Yea, get in.
Dad: Get in here?
Me: Yea, get in and put your seatbelt on.
Dad: Where are we going?
Me: Home
Dad: Home. Home.
Dad: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.........28, 29 (He was counting the houses on Spindale Street.)
Me: What are you counting?
Dad: Oh... the roads.
Dad: Where are we going, home?
Me: Yep, we're almost there.
Dad: What road is this?
Me: Whitesides Road
Dad: Where are we going?
Me: Home. We're about to turn on Hudlow Road.
Dad: It's okay on the right. You got one coming.
Me: We're home! Let's get out.
Dad: You want me to get out?
Me: Yep, let's go in and cook dinner.
Dad gets out and hocks and spits all the way to the door. Thank heavens he doesn't spit inside except on his plate, in the sink, and in the toilet! Have a good evening!!! Susie
Great conversation!! It's so true about his "hocking" and spitting. Did he do that when he was not dealing with Alzheimers?
ReplyDeleteHe's always been a hocker and a spitter, but not as much and at more appropriate times!
ReplyDelete