A friend had his parents over for dinner for Mother's Day; they are in their mid-80's. Turns out that mom had cut her hand and it was red and oozing. But she refused to have a doctor look at it, preferring her home remedy of neosporin, olive oil, a dishtowel and two rubber bands.
Really.
Dialogue over dinner, a kind of reverse replay
of the wedding at Cana:
Son: Mom, you really need to let the doctor
take a look at your hand.
Mom: Don't worry. It's nothing.
Son: C'mon, Mom. Go to the doctor.
It would make me happy.
Mom: That's not my job.
Happy Mother's Day!
1 comment:
That will be me in XXXXX years.
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