So I thought; having my 82 year old dad stay with me would be, if not that easy, at least I could cope. Big mistake! When you work two jobs from 4am - 5pm and willingly I might add, there's not a lot of room left over for dad. And he lets me know it.
My dad throws tantrums in a bid for attention, he makes a mess if he doesn't get his way, he wants pain medication when he hasn't been on it for months. He stops eating and drinking. Sound familiar?
I'm eyeing off the bottle of tequila in the pantry. Cos I think I should start with topshelf. After all why deprive myself when clearly I'm going to be a babbling mess if this situation keeps up.
Anaesthetise myself that's the plan. And start a "Why I Mind My Parent" support group. Call ourselves WIMP, buy the tshirt, dvd, book. Go on utube. Yeah. Have another drink. Eat chocolate.
Membership is free.
About Me
- Robyn Marshall
- I'm a personal trainer. My husband and son aren't fazed by my random eccentricities anymore. They've learned to live with it. We have a rottweiler named Mufti who honestly believes everyone loves him. He also thinks he's the size of a shitzu. He wants his own blog page. He wants to call it mufti@woof.com.au.
No comments:
Post a Comment