Bleeding Heart

I swear to all that's holy in the universe. This really happened. Today.

Premise: Dad has to go to the lab in Sequim for a fasting blood panel. He does this every six months. Standard. At around 10am I go into the living room, where he's in his recliner, head-deep in The Seattle Times.

Me: "Hey, let's go, I'm ready."

Dad: "OH! OKAY!" The paper is hastily folded, the halogen lamp turned off, and the recliner un-reclined in a matter of seconds. (Curious how much faster Dad is when he's not on his feet.) He grabs his walker, assumes the standing position, waits for the blood flow to return to his legs, and off he wheels toward the kitchen to put on his L.L. Bean jacket (even though it was 70 degrees today) and head outside to the Jeep.

Me: "I'll go get the Jeep and meet you in the driveway."

Dad: "YUP."

Note: We keep the Jeep in the barn now. After cleaning multiple rat nests from under the hood, we decided it was probably smarter to keep the Cherokee inside rather than outside, as it has been for the last couple of years.

I head to the barn just as Dad coming into the kitchen. The barn is twenty yards away from the garage. By the time I open the barn, get in the Jeep, back it out, and pull up to the garage, Dad will likely just be rolling out of the garage. No, I do not drive like a maniac. Yes, he is that slow.

Except.......when I pull up to the garage, he's not there, not in the driveway, not standing there with his walker, not waiting for me.

I park the Jeep, leave the engine running, get out of the car, thinking Dad is still in the kitchen trying to get his jacket on. I'm heading toward the garage when I spot Dad over by the shrubbery next to the front door, where the beautiful Hellebore and white Bleeding Heart bushes are.

Actually, I heard him before I saw him. He was singing, at the top of his 95 year old lungs, "Bess You Is My Woman" from Porgy and Bess, and as he was singing his heart out--"BESS.......YOU IS.........MAH WOMANNNNN............"--he was...........oh gawd I can't even believe I'm writing this............he was.........well, he was..........peeing..........urinating in the.......no, scratch that.....he was peeing ON the Bleeding Heart. One hand on his.......well, you know........the other hand sawing the air with song.

So there it is--Do you HAVE a mental picture of this? Do you have any idea how monumentally bizarre and equally.........just.......WRONG this picture was???? Do you? Huh?

ewwww.