It's Saturday morning and I'm packing up and heading for home. Sleep was rough last night 'cause I kept waking up from one weird dream after another. I won't bore you with the details. Well, maybe later. Friday's are usually when I head back, but no one volunteered to stay over, and I swore all hell would break loose before I asked anyone again, so here I am. Okay, maybe I'm leaning a bit closer to martyrdom, but dammit some time's I'm frickin' entitled. Yeah, I said it.
Anyway...dad seems to be doing okay this morning. He was up before Pepper crowed (I've mentioned Pepper before right? Dad's dog?), and making coffee. He said he had his usual start 'n stop restless night of sleep, but he was doing just fine. When I came into the house last night he commented casually using his ('I could care less if you came back here tone'), "Oh, I thought you'd go straight to that place today. It's Friday isn't it?" Uh-huh. It's gonna be like that. Patience and understanding. "That place" is where I live and pay rent, but dad likes to pretend like it's my summer home, and his house (and he has always felt it necessary to remind us, that it is his house and we were just visitors) is actually where I should call home now. No.
"Well, I knew none of your peeps were spending the night tonight so thought I'd stick around." He huffs and puffs...kinda indignant..."I can take care of myself". So I respond. "I know you can dad. I just feel more comfortable if some one's here at night." I'm on my way to the kitchen when I think I hear a mumbled, "whatever".
O-kaay. So like I said, I'm heading home. Jean supposed to be visiting with dad tonight. Hope she shows up. Her fibromyalgia could start acting up again, or a migraine, the flu, unknown symtoms from a past life...one never knows. I'll be back tomorrow night.
God, just please keep an eye out. My stubborness about going home on the weekend is just that...but you know I have to do it. Amen.
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