You Can't Keep a Ma Down

I was supposed to be in Portland this weekend. My cute cousin is taking her own 18-month hiatus in Budapest, Hungary, and I was going to wish her well.

My plans changed when my mother became frighteningly unwell and was admitted for emergency surgery. Thank goodness for emergency surgery. She's fine now. Pa, the Little Sister, and Grandmother went off to Portland as planned. I was charged with making sure Ma didn't put herself back in the hospital, a rather difficult job. Each day is full of negotiations.

Ma, you shouldn't do that. You need to rest.
But I think that I should . . .
No.
But I need to . . .
No.
Okay, I'm just going to . . .
No.
Fine, fine. I won't do this, but I have to do this other thing.

On and on and on.

I do get some small satisfaction each night when Ma, sitting on the couch resting herself and her eyes, mumbles something about having tried to do too much that day.

Oh really, Ma?

She almost got me yesterday. She asked if I would go fabric shopping with her today. Without thinking I said yes, but then remembered and scolded her. I did promise her that if she was a good girl and spent all day today doing nothing but resting (she did negotiate for three coke runs), I would go fabric shopping with her on Tuesday.

So far she's stuck to her word, but only because she hasn't yet ventured beyond her bedroom. The good news is I inherited my mother's indomitable will. Let the negotiations begin.