Suffering Suffix

Bill and I were going to be gone over the dinner hour, so we had Mom’s 70-something granny-nanny, Kay, come to fix dinner and keep her company until we got home.  Over Sunday breakfast, our conversation turned to their evening together.

“So, did you two have a nice visit last night?” I asked.

“Yes, we did.  Did you know she’s from Michigan?  Some little town near Lansing, I think,” Mom said.

“I think she mentioned it when she first starting coming here,” I replied.

“Oh?” Mom said, looking somewhat confused.  “Has she been here before?”

“Yes, Mom.  She been coming here for a couple of months now.”

“Well, I don’t remember her coming before.  Maybe because she looked different.”

“Different than what?” Bill asked.

“Different than whenever you say she was here before,” she answered with a slight hint of irritation before continuing.  “Did you know she lived in Sun City Grand before she moved here to Sun City and she said they didn’t like it much because the people who live there are very snooty.”

“Is that why she moved here?” Bill asked.

“I think so.  Plus her husband died and she wanted to downsize,” she said, mopping up egg yolk with a piece of toast.  “Do you know,” she continued, “when she married her husband he was a plegic and then he got worse?”

“You mean a paraplegic, don’t you?  There’s no such thing as a plegic,” I commented.  “So I guess he went from being a paraplegic to being a quadriplegic?”

“I guess,” she replied.  “All I know is she told me he went from being a plegic to more of a plegic and then he died and Kay moved to regular Sun City and she likes it here much more than over at The Grand.  Plus, they have a better singles club here.”



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