Well, my brother left for home today and in doing so, my care of my grandmother begins.
We were iced in so I didn't have to work. I drove over there around 5 and as soon as I hit the door, the complaining of not being hungry started. I went over early because the streets are pure sheets of ice. Being a Southern girl, I don't drive in snow or ice.
Her microwave is on the fritz, so after getting her pre-dinner meds shuffled to her in her lazyboy, I got the plate ready and went next door to my best friend's house to use her microwave. Jane is a dear soul. She took the plate and heated it just past hot, without letting anything dry out. The plate still had to get back next door through the below freezing temperature and on the table while I got Granny up and into the kitchen.
By this time, I think I heard 4 different instances of things I had not done right. I had not taken a hot pad to Jane's, she accused me off cutting the heat back from 80 degrees she keeps the thermostat on, the meal was cold, and she didn't get her meds early enough.
Le, my brother, didn't get this. He's a guy, 7 years my senior and the golden child. He cooked all weekend and never swept the floor. Tonight, as I was finishing cleaning the kitchen, she said, "and sweep the floor, it's filthy."
It's one thing to be the dutiful granddaughter and come in and do it but it's another to be nit-picked about how I do it. I know I don't make tea like she does or wash the dishes likes she does, but I'm trying and it looks like that would be enough.
