Coldwater Creek

I .....am......worn.....out.  I just went shopping to buy mom some "play clothes" since all her old stuff looks tres' tired.  I started at one end of Coldwater Creek and cut a swath right through that place.  The older sales lady was laughing as I yanked stuff I thought might work and threw it over my shoulder.  And then I started throwing it over hers.  Luckily, this wasn't her first barbecue with a dementia client, so she's the one that stopped me when the buttons on one blouse were too small.  She said it takes her forever to button that shirt and not to go there, and I didn't.  I knew about elastic waist pull on pants and we found several pairs of those, so I may have scored there, if they fit. By the end, she was exhausted and so was I, and I still don't know what 83 year old ladies wear, but there's bound to be something in one of those bags that works.  My favorites were the soft knit cotton jeans--they look just like jeans but feel soft like pj's, only with a zipper and button.  Yeah, buddy. 

Mom may not like any of the stuff and if she doesn't, well, that'll be just fine--or at least that's what I'll tell the judge when I plead insanity, as my defense for killing her.  The thought of wagging those bags back to the store just makes me want to go lie down and take a nap.  A l-o-n-g nap.  And speaking of naps, mom's next door neighbor at the Plaza's boyfriend died yesterday, and mom's neighbor is all torn up about it.  I'm talking a dirt nap here....he was there one minute and then checked out to the great beyond--poof.  Mom's neighbor ate every meal with her BF and now there's a hole at the table, and she won't go to the dining room to eat.  I got all the scoopage from Carrie, the Concierge, when I ran by today to drop off a new orchid for mom since her's was kaput.  Carrie said Mrs."Real Sad" needed a hug and then told me why, so I went right over and hugged on her.  Dang.  Ya just never know when your ticket's punched, do ya?