Diaper DunkerPosted: August 23, 2015
Every Saturday night I plug the Red Menace into its charger and every Sunday morning I unplug it from its overnight charge. Mom usually calls out to me when she wakes up, but this morning Bill and I only heard random rustling sounds coming from the baby monitor as we sat in the Arizona Room watching Sunday morning fare on the television. Finally, at 7:30, I wandered into her bedroom to see if she was fully awake or still tossing around, trying to get another 40 winks. As I walked in, her eyes fluttered open.
“So you are awake,” I commented as I removed the plug and began maneuvering the wheelchair into place alongside her bed.
“I’ve been awake waiting for you,” she grumbled as she sat up and dangled her legs down the side of the bed.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.
“Because I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were walking.”
“No, we don’t walk on Sundays. If you’d have called me, you would have known we were home.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t know it was Sunday and I didn’t know if you were here so I didn’t call you.”
“But how else would you know unless you tried.”
“I don’t know. I guess next time I’ll call you.”
“Good idea,” I said as I started to leave. “I’ll let you get dressed.”
“No wait,” she called out. “Can you stay just in case?”
“Just in case? Just in case what?”
“I don’t know. Just in case I fall over?”
“Why? Are you feeling dizzy?”
“No, I feel fine. I’d just feel better if you stayed,” she said with a shrug.
“Sure, why not,” I mumbled, walking back into her room. “What’s another cup of cold coffee in the scheme of things?”
“What?” she asked as I plopped down on a chair that’s tucked into the corner of her bedroom.
“Nothing,” I replied. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll stay here until you’re done.”
“Okay, good,” she answered. “Is it hot out?” she asked, removing her pajama top and pulling on her cotton tee.
“Yup, it’s still hot. But at least we don’t have the terrible wildfires here like they do in the northwest,” I said, trying to make conversation.
“Well that could change,” she replied solemnly as she stood to remove her pajama bottoms. “We’ve still got the whole month of August to get through.”
“No we don’t. Today’s the 23rd so we’ve only got another week.”
“August 23rd? Really? Who knew,” she muttered, removing her adult diaper and tossing it towards the container next to her dresser.
“Ha!” she exclaimed jubilantly. “I got it again!”
“What? Got what,” I said with a start, coming out of a temporary reverie.
“My underwear. I hit the top of the lid every time,” she announced with pride. “Pretty good, huh, just like a real basketball dunker.”
“Yup, pretty good. Better than I’d probably do,” I commented, standing up and stretching while she finished pulling up her Capris before shifting onto the Red Menace.
“Oh you’ll do fine someday. It just takes lots of diapers and lots of practice,” she said with a wave as she motored out of the room. “You’ll get there.”