Last Man Standing

When Bill and I moved in with Mom, we converted the third bedroom into a home office.  When we are in between contracts (which is the majority of the time lately), we spend most mornings in here on our computers.  We read Drudge, check out Groupon, read email, see what’s happening on Facebook, and generally feign busy-ness in order to drown out Mom’s TV noise, which is always turned on and always LOUD.  So, in order to not hear the Price Is Right screaming that accompanies “come on down” and the audience shouting each contestants response on Family Feud (name a type of job: oil – OIL, nose – NOSE, boob – BOOB).  Mom usually wanders in a couple of time each morning to give us important updates like “I’m getting dressed now,” or “I’m taking a shower now,” or “do you have a job now?”

This morning she got a phone call from an old friend in Michigan, so she wandered back to the office to give me an update.

“That was Lil,” she announced.  “And the news is we’re about the only ones left!”

“Well that’s too bad,” I said.  “But Lil’s okey?”

“Yes.  And so is Priscilla.  Except she’s has peripheral vision.”

“You mean she’s losing her peripheral vision?” I asked.

“No, she’s going blind.”

“Does she have cataracts?”

“No, she has blindness.  It’s just her peripherals right now.”

“Her peripherals are going blind?”

“No, her eyes.  Her peripherals are OK.  Plus no one knows what happened to Dorothy.”

“Dorothy Fairbanks?”

“Yes.  She died but it’s a mystery.  No one knows how.  And Elaine Rouseau fell down in the bathtub.”

“Didn’t she get pneumonia?”

“No, she died in the tub and just fell down.  So there just aren’t that many of us left.  Oh by the way, I’m taking a shower.”


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