When I got to my parents' place yesterday, I was surprised to see how well Lady was doing. Despite having had her knee bones sawed off and metal bits stuck in just a few days ago, she looked cheerful and well-coiffed. She had her convalescent station set up on a futon in the family room but was by no means bed-ridden. With the aid of crutches, she could get up and carefully move about the house (including up and down the stairs!) with significant independence. Talk about a pioneer woman!
|Nothing like Saltines, a Cherry Pepsi and a max dose of Percocet, right?|
When I commented on how good she looked, the conversation went something like this:
Me: Wow, Mom, you look great! I thought you'd be completely laid up and very ill.
Dad: Ha!, well, you should have seen her a couple days ago! I mean, she looked like her mother.
Me: [alarmed, trying to be diplomatic] Um . . .
Lady: [nodding earnestly] Oh, yes, it was bad. Very bad.
Dad: UGLY LLAMA FACE!
Lady & Dad: [laughing hysterically together]
Proving, once again, the power of a well-chosen movie reference. Gosh I love my parents.