“Mom?” I asked at my mother’s disheveled appearance this morning. “Let’s go inside and fix your hair.”
Mom was very early today to buy groceries. She had basically just crawled out of the bed and into the car. She said she wanted to get it over with – that it had been worrying her all morning. Mom looked very amiss.
I helped mom fix her hair using lots of hairspray and we ironed her shirt. I then drove us to the grocery store. Sometimes mom just needs a little extra attention from her loved ones.
“I am going to spend some money today,” she told me as if warning me. “I am out of books to read and I am going to buy me and you lots of books at the grocery store.”
I only spent $77 dollars today. I splurged and bought a rotisserie chicken for Maggie and Caramel as a treat. Mom thought I was crazy spending $3.99 on a chicken for the dogs.
Mom has a strong affinity for the grocery baggers at Kroger. Many of them have disabilities or mental deficiencies.
“Hey Chris,” she said very happily to our bagger today. “I will be by tomorrow to buy my husband’s and my groceries and will give you a big tip for helping me.”
Chris smiled vigorously, nodding his head and said something that mom and I both couldn’t decipher – his speech being garbled.
Mom bought a plethora of books from Sandra Brown to Anne Rice. I was very pleased when mom agreed to buy me a $50 dollar iTunes gift card instead of books – being more interested in music these days.
My Pantry Runneth Over…
My freezer and kitchen cabinets are now full of food. I just haven’t had an appetite after coming off all those medications. When I was on the high levels of Risperdal, I could eat you out of house and home. I eat a lot of simple cheese and turkey sandwiches these days. I haven’t lost weight, though. My weight continues to hover from between 175 to 180 pounds.
It feels good to have so much food in the house. Often, I will go into the kitchen to open the freezer just to survey my bounty with much pleasure. For so many years, it was a struggle keeping food in the house – me always feeling badly when I would run out and would have to ask my parents for more. It was an entirely demeaning and demoralizing process. Dad controlled my disability money with an iron fist and would howl in protest if I ever needed extra food.
I told mom of all the food I have now on the drive home and she suggested we start buying groceries only every other week to please my father by spending less disability money.
“No way,” I replied with a scoff. “I am going to use that $85 dollars of grocery money dad gives me every week to my supreme advantage. I will start buying canned goods and non perishable items next week. I am going to continue to stock up!”