This is a sad confession about myself. Some days, the oldies cannot win with me. It's completely my fault and I carry a lot of guilt about it.
If they stay in bed all day, I fret. Are they sick? Are they over medicating? If they're up and around, I get irritated because they're frying or just underfoot.
If they don't leave the house for days at a time, I get anxious. When they venture out, I worry about her driving. I remain on high alert until they are home safely.
Their obsession with the mail bugs me. Yet, if I manage to gather our mail before they do and she ignores it, alarms go off in my brain. Why is she not reading the junk mail to him?
When she throws the ball for Gabby, I am thrilled that she's outside and enjoying the dog. Then, I panic that Gabby will knock her down. (It's never happened but she has knocked me down.)
The Unabomber has a watch that he can push a button and "DING! It's 6:07 P.M." On more than one occasion, I have quipped, "Do you have a date?" Pure ugliness!
They went out for breakfast. I've made a promise to myself. When they return, I will be pleasant and avoid fretting. If they spend the day in bed, I will act like that is the most normal thing in the world. If they're up and about, I will greet them with a smile and kind comments.
I'll let you know how it goes.
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2 comments:
Greet them with a smile and kind comments. It will help you and them. HOld tightly to that thought.
Perhaps the oldies are playing some sort of mind game with you, or themselves by not leaving the house and staying in bed for days at a time. Or they're possibly just trying to stay out of your hair. They have been out for a few hours for the last 3 days and, Oh, guess what? You haven't been home since Thursday evening. Very interesting, to say the least!
Love you!
Pammie
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