Yesterday was a big momentous day for my rehabilitation. I drove myself to get my injection and didn't need any help. Normally, Tim, my father's employee, would pick me up and take me. Tim would wait in the waiting room and then make sure I got another appointment.
"Come here," my father asked me as I was standing in his pharmacy.
Dad brought me over to Tim's little cubicle.
"He did it himself," dad told Tim excitedly. "He got his shot without help."
I started to grow embarrassed and dad caught on to this.
"Attaboy!" Tim said with a kind smile on his face. "I actually like getting out of this store to take you."
Mom started the "he's out of gas" bullshit last night. My mother can be so obsessive compulsive.
"She's afraid she is going to have to do it," dad told me as we met at Fat Albert's to fill of my car.
"She called me five freaking times on the phone tonight," I told dad.
"That's your mother," dad said laughing.
"Mom sure can make life complicated, but we would do without if it wasn't for her help."