3 weeks

It's been 3 weeks, so about time for an eruption. Last night Aunt May complained that she needed her toenails cut, and she had some sort of callous on her foot. She also said she needed her hair done, as she grimaced and plucked at the hair on the side of her head. I asked her how much and how often she would normally get her hair done. She said $70, once a month. "I think that's pretty good," she said. Keep in mind you guys, what she's doing is getting her whole head dyed by Supercuts, for this generous sum. I said, "I think it looks nice gray. It's distinguished." She smiled and sort of laughed, in the way that someone does when they don't agree with you one bit.

Anyhow, so Robert and I were going to Lowe's and the nail salon is right on the way, so we all loaded up in the car to make the short trip down the hill. After she sat down in the front passenger seat, Aunt May actually got her seat buckle on -- which she can't normally do by herself, so I was inwardly congratulating her on making progress. But that was premature. She couldn't figure out how to shut the door. She grabbed at the inside door handle, the one that opens the door, kind of pulling on it hard, instead of the big handle which has less chance of ripping off the door, so I said, "No, don't pull that handle, pull the other one." She got totally confused and started looking at the buttons on the side of the door, at the window. I tapped her leg -- "Over here, look where I'm holding," and demonstrated the correct door handle on my side of the car. "Oh!" she said, and finally grabbed the right handle.

Take a deep breath. Then we went down the hill and I pulled up in front of the salon. Parking and then walking with her would take twice as long. Note to self: Don't forget to ask her doctor for (a note to request) a handicapped car hang tag.

After Robert and I were done with Lowe's, we swung back over to pick her up. Robert wanted to get home quicker, so he walked from there -- a short walk.

(to be continued)