He arrived at 910 p to LAX, and we were home by 10:30. The phone's gps threw him off, but we got it sorted.
At home, he got a burst of hunger, and asked "do you have any real food?" He wasn't interested in chicken pesto on carrot noodles, but chowed on my chopped med salad, and stole some of my tuna.
We ate, had some manhattans, managed Pickle's barking, reviewed the coffee maker, the tv (only ABC--that'll do for tomorrow), the bathroom lights and had lots of time to chat.
I love my dad--he seems to be ok. We are all doing ok.
He's snoozing, I'm hanging, Pickle seems to be chilling.
I'm so happy to see my dad.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment