Happy Father's Day

Housemate and I went to pick up Dad for lunch at an Italian Restaurant.  On the way there, Dad spotted the golden arches of a fast-food chain.  He made a comment about getting a hot dog there.  [No, they do not serve hot dogs].

Dad ate half of his entree almost all of a glass of Chianti.  He is medically allowed to have one glass of beer or wine under direct supervision.  He spend most-- if not all-- of his time with us believing that we were in a McDonald's.  He remarked upon the changed decor, the changed menu, the changed prices.  Attempts to orientate him to place failed.  I figured it did not really matter if he told the family that we took him to McDonald's for Father's Day so I let it be.  The important thing was that he enjoyed his time out.

After housemate paid the bill up front, I asked Dad if he wanted a mint.  The mints being served were the little pastel-colored pillow mints that we both enjoy.  He said yes.  While waiting for the car, he wanted a few more.  The nice people at the register nodded.  Dad was happy to have the extras.

There was no mention today of finding his old bank statements or of getting money from headquarters.  I figured this as a temporary reprieve, but one for which I was acutely grateful.  I gave Dad a big hug outside the house.  He staggered up the walk.  One of the staff was waiting for him at the door.

sapphoq on life