Then we have Little Miss Chatterbox, who has taken to wearing the lab coat daily. I heard someone ask her if she was a pharmacist. (They were serious.) Gladys thinks Naomi has been taking her teabags while she's out of the apartment. 98-year-old Maude tripped and fell. Before I could even ask if she was alright she threw her cane and purse and yelled "Damn it all to hell." Apparently she was still mad later. She dumped her salad on the table at lunch because the man she was sitting with didn't want one. I guess she doesn't like eating alone? There's more, but I need to cut it short because I can hear Joseph coming (his walker wheel has a distinct squeak) and he's going to want to know about mass. Again.
Here's my Friday Photo! I'm eight years old, and on the left (as you look at the screen, Big Bro. Or the right, if you turn your back to it. Geez.)
I ran twice this week. Next week will be even better. Happy weekending!