Sooner or later I had to come back to Santee to visit my parents, so I wrapped it into a work trip and came here to observe their latest status. I finally got smart and stayed in a hotel rather than their house. The hotel is the only one in town, next to Honey Donuts and the crack district -- the room is $59/night and worth every penny. It’s blissfully quiet with a fast Internet connection.
We had dinner at Hometown Buffet, a suburban mecca of overcooked and bland food, to belatedly celebrate their 89th birthdays. For the last 15 years my father told people he was about to turn 90. Now it’s true – and he’s changed his line to “I’m about to turn 100.” God forbid. My dietician friend Julie thinks the preservatives my parents are ingesting are keeping them alive beyond their natural expiration dates. Based on the spread I saw tonight, it’s a valid theory.
They had respective birthday 2-for-1 coupons, senior discount coupons, and promo coupons. Some were valid, some expired. My father tried to combine all the coupons for free food along with a dozen takeout cartons. My mother insisted that 3 other people could have been there with us to justify the discounts, but they didn’t show up. And with horror, I realized there is a strong genetic component to my love of a good deal and my negotiation skills.
After the feast (which I barely ate), my father assembled the walker for my mother and carefully pulled it behind him, huffing and puffing. The only problem was that Mom wasn’t attached to it – she was still at the dessert table, stuffing cookies into her purse.
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