A few days ago I mentioned Dad wanting a Sleep Number mattress for his birthday.
Recap: When I discussed the economic implications of it he asked if he could have a pedicure instead. I promised him that when his sons arrived to celebrate his birthday I’d have them go with him to get it. That seemed to be a satisfactory response to him from me.
A few days later I told Dad that we could go get his pedicure. He looked at me and said, “What are you talking about? I don’t want a pedicure.” OK. He’d forgotten our previous conversation, I presumed, and repeated it to him regarding his request. He replied, “Not a pedicure. I don’t want a pedicure. I want that other mattress. You know, the one that sounds like pedicure.” This is where my mind races to Charades or Password.
Do you spot it? “You mean Posturepedic?” I asked. He smiled and nodded. “Good answer!” I expected to hear from Family Feud. Nope, we’re not getting that either. No wonder he was satisfied with my earlier agreeable nature. Quel domage! What a disappointment my new response brought.
But then all these fabulous people brought him chocolates and jelly beans and candy bars and gift cards to yummy places as birthday presents last Saturday. We are both very satisfied.