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Saving Face

Marnie with good eyebrowsDear Diary,

I walked into Marnie and Papa G’s place the other day..KillJoy Senior Living: if it’s not already done—we’ll do it to you..only to find a big huge surprise awaiting as I entered through Granny’s front door. I have to admit.. I did have a moment of elation as I bent down to hug and kiss Marnie and observed two near perfect symmetrical eyebrows..placed just where they should be (not in the crease of her eyelid or three inches above, gravitating into her forehead). This morning as I gazed at granny, reclining back in her electric scooter, an immensely appealing expression radiating forth from her face..I had the thought how fortunate we all should be..to age so gracefully and be so hap..

“AAAAACCCCKK! OMG! Your FAAAACE! What happened to your f-a-c-e?Papa G. had just rounded the corner with a shiner spanning the entire length of the left side of his face. A beautiful canvas in which various shades of purples and pinks had blended together to form the portrait of a man who looks like he just finished a few rounds in the ring with..

“I fell off the toilet yesterday and hit my head on the counter. Had to call emergency and everything. No, your grandmother didn’t do this to me.”

O.K. Adrienne be cool. You don’t want to freak the poor guy out. Judging by the looks of things he’s already suffered from enough trauma.

“You fell off the TOILET? What were you doing on there?”

Duh. Wait. Let me re-phrase that.

She hit you didn’t she? You turned the heat up to ninety again and BAM! Please tell me she hit you..because that other story is NOT something I would care to repeat. I know. It was Edger down in room 312 wasn’t it? That E-D-G-A-R. Always a hot head. I’m going down there RIGHT this minute. I’ll bet he’s looking wayyyyyy worse then you. Right Papa G.? Right?

“So, my hip hurt and the next thing I know..down I went.”

CRIPES.

Turning to Marnie for answers is not always the best path to choose when one needs explanations fast and accurately. Yet. Because I never learn..

“Marnie..where were YOU when all this was happening?”

Marnie it turns out had a few..uh hum issues of her own..thus explaining the ICE pack I have now astutely observed her SITTING on.. in the thirty or so seconds since I walked in the door. Yup. Too many prunes can do that to you. What did I tell you about MODERATION? So in other words Marnie, you were..ummm—“indisposed” down the hall, when Papa G needed some help. Then when you heard him shout out for help you..What? Oh I see. It took a few more “minutes” before you “jumped” back in your electric scooter to see what all the fuss was about back in the bedroom. How’s your hearing these days Marnie? Blechhhhh.

I don’t even want to think about how long Papa G was down and out. The important thing is that he got the proper help and he’s still standing.

“Is there anything I can do to cover this thing up?” Papa G. is staring imploringly at me. “Wellllll. I could slap some foundation and concealer on it and see if that helps.” Yeah. That was a good answer. But. Oh. No. Couldn’t just stop there. Had to give a full explanation of how the concealer has yellow undertones that will help to cancel out the red of the bruise and that the foundation has blue to counter act the effect of the red. Papa G. was not buying any of it. The mere mention of me applying anything on HIS face made him recoil in horror..the much too fresh memory of me drawing on Marnies eyebrows for 1 1/2 hours LAST week still apparently lingering. I took another approach.

“G—I have to tell you. You can carry “it” (banged and battered) off..really well. I know so many guys around here with the same badass LOOK. Think of it as right of passage into the hip dudes club. All you need is a pack of MARLBOROS rolled up in your under shirt sleeve and a can of Schlitz (Drat. Marnie had one in the refrigerator but I tossed it. Had NO idea it was a false bottomed “safe”) and you will look all fly and tough boy. Girls like that. Right Marnie?” Marnie? M-A-R-N-I-E?

Here comes Granny zooming around the corner like she’s drag racing, shouting “H-o-n-e-y. We have a slight problem” and waving empty medicine vials in my direction. “Papa G dumped out all his different TYPES of medicine bottles full of tiny white pills and we need you to sort them out. How are your eyes..today? OK?” My eyes are fine it’s my SANITY I’m most worried about.

UURRKKKKKKK.

She has just missed my foot by ¼ of an inch with that 400 LB. scooter of hers. I swear..one of these days she’s gonna flip that baby over or take out Papa G.. if she doesn’t ease up on the gas. THAT would be an interesting 911 call..as if THIS incident wasn’t thought provoking enough.

Doesn’t matter where your seniors live MY SANDWICH GENERATION readers..there is always the chance that the most innocuous fixture or appliance (those heated hair rollers..SCARY) can cause injury. The only action we can take in our advocacy roll is to make sure the throw rugs are removed, the computer cords are stashed and all bathrooms sinks are padded. After that..march on down to SEPHORA and purchase bulk amounts of concealer stick. You’ll need it for YOUR dark circles.

Don’t trip.

A

Copyright © 2009 My Sandwich Generation. All rights reserved.

Posted in Uncategorized 8 years, 1 month ago at 11:05 pm.

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