Because that's what was playing today at SpeeDee while I was waiting for my car to have its oil changed.
Another diversion was listening to a gal at the counter trying to figure out why her car service/repair/whatever cost more than "Jose" had told her it would. It's called "sales tax," honey!
And now my car's all happy.
* * *
My mom's in a care center now -- she was beyond furious, but it's just not possible to give her adequate care at home. She convinced my dad to spend the first night with her -- in a chair.
Last I heard, she's beginning to be okay with the whole thing. Being in a private room helps, I'm sure. I'm planning to go down again Mother's Day weekend, and so is Lizzie.
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