You have all heard comedy is the best medicine. Well, it’s probably not going to cure cancer or get my Pap Smear done. But however, I’m just suggesting laughing is better than crying.
I will record comedy on late night TV on my Toppy (Topfield) and these days as my kitchen, lounge and dining area is all in one. I will put on some comedy while I cook, for company. A young Aussie comedian is talking about how hard it is to get a fitted sheet on a bed. So,
In the last place I lived I had three bedrooms; I know rich right! No, it was a dump, it was hot and the landlord was a creep. But it allowed me to have a study and a spare room with a single bed for when friends or family stayed over.
The sheet changing day, I would have my morning carer take the sheets off, so I could get them in the machine, then on the line. I would usually get out clean sheets and put them on the bed so my next carer could just get stuck in. Mostly. This particular day I had gotten distracted, didn’t get them out. My next carer arrived, no sheets. She asked which colour I wanted and I suggested she choose. Honestly, I am in my ‘Oh white sheets place, I get it now’ faze and the other set I have is say a French Chocolate-grey. (Yes! I’m that chick)
Now, also whatever sheet is in the washing machine, the other goes on the bed. Two weeks on, two weeks off. I wear pyjamas, so it’s not an eeeww moment. I told her to pick.
She called to me from the bedroom to the lounge several times and not waiting to be distracted, I suggested she choose.
I thought I was empowering her to be independent. I’m like so, made to be a mum, right? This carer is still my regular and I really love her. She is often mistaken as my daughter, but that’s another story.
Eventually, she came to me with a barrage of questions and I put what I was doing aside and went with her to the bedroom. I got to the door and stopped.
“Are you sure these are for this bed?” she asked me.
The sheets were light purple, they went on the single bed. Oh, sweet Jesus! I just laughed.
I told her I was laughing with her, not at her and she informed me how hard it had been to get it on the bed.
But she didn’t find it as funny as I had. I suggested I wouldn’t do it to her again, however I did ask if she struggled again, could she come get me so I could watch.
I call this carer my Girl Friday and these days she is also my Girl Wednesday and once a month, my Girl Tuesday. We laugh a lot as we had built up the rapport to do that which is nice.
More about my Girl Friday another day.