So, the saga continues. Mom is still here, in fact, she’s in the recliner watching Survivor at this very moment. I’m hearing phrases such as, “Oh, I can’t stand that Jonathan,” and “He’s lost a lot of weight since he’s been on there.” Yes- extremely exciting conversation. She cut my hair earlier and while I was in the shower, I hear mumbling coming from outside the door. I turn the shower off to this, “I can’t get the remote to change channels.” Huh? I’m taking a shower, I’m naked, I’m wet. She walks in and hands me the remote. I push the satellite button-all is well. I remember not so long ago, Sunday to be the exact day, in which I could shower with the door open. This is no longer an option. I’m on guard. I’m thinking about putting a doorbell on the bathroom door just so I know when she’s around. I could also tie a bell around her neck, like a cat, although that may get the Adult Protective Services involved.

I did have a little chat with her this evening. I asked her if she had talked to man-friend, she said no and asked if she should call him. I said it was up to her. Do any of you realize how odd this is-me giving my mother advice on men? Me- the woman who can keep a pet rat longer than a man. What advice should I give her? I think she made a mistake and I’ve told her so-I haven’t a clue as to what else to say. Very difficult position. I told her I think they need to sit down together, face to face and talk. End of story. Oh, wait, she’s in the bathroom gargling now. Joy. If I had a mic I’d record it for the world.