So let’s recap. Willie wanted to open a joint bank account with me, and Indy bought unusable land in Texas back in the 1960s. On my second attempt to help Willie open a bank account at the Temple of Doom, I discovered Willie had misplaced her driver’s license. We had to…
OK, so you guys probably know I think Willie and Indy are up to some Eyes Wide Shut-style shenanigans over at the Temple of Doom. Willie and Indy are friends with a fellow resident at the Temple of Doom. We’ll call him Steven Spielberg. Why Steven Spielberg? Well, let’s just say Steven Spielberg was…
Oh guys. I haven’t forgotten you. It’s been a bananas summer. Let’s talk about Willie. Willie forgets stuff. I mean, all the time. She couldn’t figure out how to renew her driver’s license. She forgot that Indy, on occasion, freezes. She forgot that Indy’s freezing bought him a stroke workup. She…
Indy had one final telehealth speech appointment. One final opportunity for Indy and Willie to toy with my sanity. I strolled into the Temple of Doom, my computer and Indy Notebook tucked under my arm. I take notes during all of Indy’s appointments – speech, neurology, audiology, whatever. I carefully date the notes, and…
I have been grocery shopping for Willie. This started as a function of the pandemic. Willie does grocery pickup. Each week, there is an item or two or seven missing from her order. At the height of the pandemic – those terrible days in March and April – Willie would go into the store…
Willie and Indy are selling some property. Indy fancied himself a land baron back in the 60s. By the time he married Willie, he owned three properties, which Willie only discovered once the tax bills began arriving. After their wedding day. But now, Willie and Indy are looking forward. They realize they…
I think Willie is trying to kill me. Her weapon? Sleep deprivation. Her motive? Well, she still hates me. Willie was victimized by a phone scammer, the scope of which you can read about this coming weekend. I am Willie and Indy’s financial power of attorney. I think normal people maybe…
I promise you this is not becoming a blog about my mom’s illness. But if you read with any regularity, you know my family gives me so much material. And if we’re being honest, my mom is responsible for half of that. Simply put, there is no blog without my mom’s antics. Case…
First, I’d like to say that no parents were harmed in the making of this blog. But the week is still young. Is there anything I can say here, with regards to my family at large, that would surprise either of us? I wouldn’t think so, and yet they still manage to get me. …