The cake is not a lie

So I’m finally getting over what I thought was the plague but turned out to be a throat infection and pink eye. Yes, pink eye. A really mild case, though, because I got it the morning I was going to the doctor anyway to find out why my throat felt like I had been doing double shots of that evil goo from Ghostbusters II — evil goo and broken glass.

I’m not sure why I said “broken glass.” It’s not like swallowing intact glass would be more pleasant.

This meant I couldn’t go check on Dad, who is in rehab now and fell because he overestimated his ability to get out of bed on his own, which should indicate to the rehab staff that he is not ready to leave fucking rehab. But my sister saw him and tells me he is OK.

Dad will be 89 on Friday, and there will be cake.

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4 Responses to The cake is not a lie

  1. Morgan says:

    That totally reminded me of this, which I found chock full of hilarity: http://failblog.org/2010/08/18/epic-fail-photos-customer-service-win/

  2. ellen says:

    You both deserve some cake!

  3. A.J. Gest says:

    Ain’t it great, just spent two nights doing a trial run of things to come with my old duffer in-laws. Please when I get that old just take me out and shoot me! Crap this isn’t going to be easy. AJ

  4. Monica says:

    Sorry you’re having a rough time, AJ. Yeah, old age sucks, no matter what people say about the “golden years.” I’ve learned so much about what not to do that I hope I have the skills I need to make my own old age easier on the people around me.

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