Alway! First Thing!

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This morning was the second morning in a row that I heard Mom up early and her walker scooting into the kitchen before I had heard the bathroom door opening. I hurried to let the dogs out and get in there before she’d settled into her chair at the table (it’s almost impossible to get her up once she’s sat down).

“Good morning, Baby Girl!”

“Did you change your Depends?”

“No, I will later.”

“No! Always first thing! Every morning, when you get up, go change your Depends, first thing!”

“Okay, I’ll do it now.”

She clomped her walker around and headed back to the bathroom.

I was about to write that the rest of the morning’s routine proceeded without a hitch, but I just realized that her ride has come, she’s gone, and I totally forgot about checking her socks.

Socks in the Morning

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Socks on the Couch

One of the things I have to remember in the morning is to remove yesterday’s socks from the couch and affirm with Mom that she get clean socks every day. Sometimes our weekend routine is lax, which is why I’m guessing this photo shows three pairs of socks, but hey, at least the message of “clean socks every day” seems to be getting through. Mostly.

This morning, I go to the couch, move Mother’s purse aside (she tries to hide them from me), and see–no socks! I look around to find that she’s got them on the seat right beside her and as I move toward them, she covers them with her hand and gives me a look. I take them from under her hand, and once again, affirm, “Clean socks every day!”

“Okay, okay.”

She thinks I’m crazy.

Sartorial Selections

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Mom has a closet filled with comfy clothing. In order for her to choose something from her closetful of clean shirts and pants, I have to hide (i.e. place in her hamper) her clothes from the day before. She just doesn’t understand why she can’t wear the same outfit again and again. It’s so much easier!

She especially doesn’t understand why she should worry about wearing clean socks, and doesn’t like taking the trouble to walk the extra five steps from the closet to the dresser to fetch them. To keep me from making off with them, she has taken to hiding her socks from me, behind the decorative pillow she won at Bingo a few weeks ago.

Since, for me, out of sight is truly out of mind, she succeeds more often than I’d like to admit.