Stop Looking For Logic In A Delusional Worldgringmaster

     Things have been going pretty good lately.  I find less angst toward the daily challenges of my eldercare world.  I seem to have transcended into a lethargic state, much like a punch drunk fighter.  You get hit with so many lefts you find yourself hoping for a right.

    Today started as almost any other, me in the bathroom when Ma decides to knock on the door to see if anyone is in there.  She then goes to the door and tries the lock, returning to bed until I leave.  This morning on my way out I noticed an unusual amount of TP cores in the linen closet and took them to the kitchen to dispose of them.  While in the kitchen I noticed the the garbage had been emptied from the time I went to bed to the time I got up.  Curiosity killed the cat and I am at least that curious so I began looking for things that were out of place or unusual.  There was an empty plastic bottle in an unusual place so I opened the cupboards in hesitant expectation.  I was right, it is Christmas every day with Ma.  I then opened the cupboard under the sink and found a collection of plastic containers that food was packaged in, cellophane bags from cereal boxes, plastic bottles  and empty food boxes neatly arranged like a shrine to the cockroach gods.  Containers sifted from the garbage pail to save them for some higher purpose.  We don't have cockroaches, but they will be well fed when Ma convinces them to move in.  I am really through trying to find reasonable (or unreasonable) logic behind my regular discoveries as it just defies explanation and understanding.  Crazy is Crazy!!!  Trying to find palatable reasons for insanity will drive you insane.  At that point you go from being Ringmaster to being one of the acts.

     I am going away this weekend and I just want some peace of mind.  My brother and daughter are going to look in on Ma and I hope she doesn't think they are the little man who has been sitting at our kitchen table.  The thought of Ma chasing them down the hall with a shoe is hilariously tragic.  Who knows what I will find when I return.