Let Us Give Thanks

Sammy was downstairs at Menorah Manor waiting for me to pick him up just like we discussed ... he was only three hours too early.

"Dad ... I've been trying to call you. The nurses told me that you have been sitting in the lobby since 2 o'clock. Where's your phone?"

He pulled it out of his pocket. "Here. I never got a call."

"It says that you have four missed calls."

"Is that what that means? See ... I told you it was broken."

"Okay Dad ... let's get going."

After a few tries, Sammy sat in the front seat of my car and settled in. He had important questions on the way over like ... "Do you ever dream, Joel?" and  "Did you put all this stuff in the car (the dashboard) or did it come with that?"

Debbie met us at the door. "Sammy ... I hope you're hungry. We've got some great food for you."

"I'm not particular. I'll eat whatever you have."

 "Well ... we've got lots of turkey."

"Any fried chicken?"

"No ... um ... how about sweet potato casserole and stuffing and green beans ..."

"I don't like any of that ... lettuce and tomato and thousand Island dressing would be fine ... and what kind of bread do you have?"

Sammy stretched out in the easy chair and after a few bites of mashed potato and bread snored peacefully looking like the mask from Scream.

He was ready to hit the road at about 8:30.  So ... I got him to his feet and held his walker while he took a step.

Unfortunately ... His pants didn't take the step with him.

"Whoops Joel. Grab my pants would you?"

Aaaah ... Let us all give thanks (that he DID remember his underwear).