For the best part of a year, my mother would say, 'So did you have a nice Christmas? I didn't!'
This, every 5 bloomin' minutes! I tried every answer I could think of, going along with it, explaining she'd already asked me that 17 times today or showing her the calendar. Gave up in the end - nothing worked except looking out her window and saying, Oooh! Is that a pigeon?' Then pigeon chat would commence instead. And cloud chat. And plane chat. And, 'What's that thing on the grass?' 'It's a leaf, mum.' Is that a man on the side of that chimney?' No, mum, it's just a shadow.' 'There are children in that tree!' 'No, mum, the children are all in school...'
Some days I'd leave the care home feeling like Alice in Wonderland and wanting to scream.
This, every 5 bloomin' minutes! I tried every answer I could think of, going along with it, explaining she'd already asked me that 17 times today or showing her the calendar. Gave up in the end - nothing worked except looking out her window and saying, Oooh! Is that a pigeon?' Then pigeon chat would commence instead. And cloud chat. And plane chat. And, 'What's that thing on the grass?' 'It's a leaf, mum.' Is that a man on the side of that chimney?' No, mum, it's just a shadow.' 'There are children in that tree!' 'No, mum, the children are all in school...'
Some days I'd leave the care home feeling like Alice in Wonderland and wanting to scream.