Let’s Do the Chimi Changa…

Mrs. Sandra’s husband was and is a career alcoholic. He is just in remission. I will listen intently when she talks about him these days. She will only let him have two beers every day and she hides the rest. My mother really can’t empathize with Sandra like I can. When I first quit drinking, my hands would shake so violently as if I had a palsy or some similar affliction. It took some extremely tough love to get me sober and dried out. Only my father could curtail my heavy drinking with his sometime blunt force manner and dogged determination. “So, how are my favorite ladies tonight?” our waiter said flirtatiously with a heavy Spanish accent.  Service at the Mexican restaurant was very slow tonight as they were very busy.  I got three beef tacos supreme with rice and refried beans.  Mom and Sandra got their usual taco salads. Sandra eats hers with shredded chicken and mom likes the seasoned ground beef.  Mom was giving me all her many jalapeños tonight to add to my tacos so I was a happy camper. Sadly, Fleas Have Met Their Match and Her Name is Martha… Mrs. Sandra told mom tonight that her flea deterrent medication only cost $9 dollars at Wal-Mart. Mom currently pays over $70 dollars from our vet out at the clinic.  This got my mother in a stir in that we have to weigh Maggie to calculate the right dosage. She has called me three times about it tonight. We still haven’t found a suitable resolution to this conundrum as of yet. 

Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - November 21, 2013 Category: Mental Illness Authors: Andrew Quixote Source Type: blogs