Surely it was him, not me

January 24th, 2014 : No Comments »

Seems it’s rather more difficult than I imagined to hire a caregiver for my father, Phoebe. Yesterday, I met a lovely woman, Louisa, who came more highly praised than a DC private school child. My dear sweet father (that’s the one who showed up yesterday anyway) was well-attired, polite and only mildly feeble. Louisa was charmed, if I may say so myself. I even, ahem, showed her our video clip to add a certain, “Je ne sais quoi” to our DC street cred.  It was with much alarm and surprise that I discovered, late last night, that she chose another family over us. She claimed they had a greater need and wanted to “stay in touch.” Felt much like one of my college break-ups in which my boyfriend claimed, “It’s me, not you,” when indeed we both knew it was the opposite. Next time, dear Phoebe, there will be no “dressing up” of the old goat. Full bipap (look it up rookies) and no teeth will rule the day. Didn’t bother dad at all, btw. His only comment, “She wasn’t good lookin’ enough anyway.” My midwestern sensibility will not allow myself to entertain the notion that he may have acted in an untoward fashion when my back was turned. Denial is the root of family bliss, after all.



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