Evil Puppetmaster God

When my daughter was four or so she wandered into the living room one beautiful sun-filled morning while I was talking on the telephone, giggled as she toddled over to me, began to climb up into my lap, then....as if some evil puppetmaster God decided to flip a switch inside of her little four-year-old tummy, she threw up her entire breakfast right there in front of me. Just like that. One second--happy as can be. Next second--barf on the floor.

What does this have to do with my parents? Everything.

When Dad and I were visiting Mom last Saturday at the A.L.F., it was a beautiful sun-filled afternoon. The sun streamed through her window, we chatted about her upcoming move to the A.L.F. in Sequim (next Friday....stay tuned), she said how excited she was to be moving closer to home, we remarked at how gorgeous the roses were outside her window, then.....as if some evil puppetmaster God decided to flip a switch inside of her 90 year old dementia-filled brain, she busted out into a full-on bawl and screamed, "I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN TAKE IT ANY LONGER!" Just like that. One second--roses and sunshine. Next second--bawling on the floor.

Just shoot me.