Remember my post mid-afternoon yesterday about Dad digging his heels in and refusing to go to the library? Well, Hubby and I had a meeting late in the afternoon. It ran long and I didn't have my usual time to prepare dinner. As we were heading home, I asked what we should do about dinner. "Let's take them to John's," he said, referring to our local diner/sandwich shop. "Are you kidding?," I responded. "Do you remember what happened today?" He looked at me and said: "Yes, but this is food," he sagely replied.
I hate when he's right.
We returned home and I calmly said: "Dad, we want to take you to our local sandwich shop for dinner." "OK!," he replied.
Huh, wha....?
He gamely put on his shoes and waited patiently while we all waited for our daughter to do what girls do before they go out. (I'm too old to remember what it is, but just know that if you have a daughter, NEVER expect them to be ready in less than 15 minutes to do anything. It's a law, or something.)
And then we grabbed his rollator (new walker/rolling thingy) and all climbed in the car. Honestly, I was more nervous than bringing a screaming toddler into church. Would it be crowded? Would he want to leave after 30 seconds? Would he tell me that he just wants to sit in the car?
No, no and no. He was happy as a clam. He loved it. Did you hear me? HE LOVED IT!
He kept looking around, saying: "This is such a nice, homey place. Very quaint!" Who is this man and what did you do with my father?
Honestly, it's like we took him to ___________ (insert name of amazing, famous restaurant here). He loved his food. LOVED the restaurant. It was the happiest little field trip we've taken...ever.
So, apparently food is the magic elixir.
Who knew?
Tom knew!!
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