We drove to Western Washington last night to join Rob and Diana Stafford for dinner and then spend the next few days with my parents.

The Staffords took us to a new South American place in Spanaway that was excellent! By the time we finished and drove to my parents it was 9:30pm. Ann and I walked into the house to find my father was still awake. That was the first sign of trouble! Dad is usually in bed by 9pm and he’s a man of habit.

It turned out, Dad was very upset. No, upset doesn’t quite describe it. He was having a cow. Yes, a cow. I’m pretty sure I heard mooing!

You see, his watch, of the Timexy big-hand little-hand second-hand type, was running slow, too slow for his liking. And by God, if someone didn’t repair his watch then he was ‘ordering’ someone, anyone, to the store to get him a new one!! #myFatherHasLostHisFreakingMind #letsGetOuttaHere

You’d think he’d like a slower watch at age 84, as he could drag out his time on planet earth. But, no, his watch was too slow and he needed a new battery installed; mom had gotten the new one, she just couldn’t get it installed. This meant my mother was taking TOO long to replace the battery, by my father’s measure.

Of course, his attitude was just adding the frustrations felt by my mother over not being able to install the battery. I’m pretty sure she was ready to make a slow watch the least of his worries; he might no longer need a watch!

To calm the situation (after a big sigh from yours truly) I agreed to cast my readers aside for the evening in favor of bridging the divide between a man-who-needs-a-working-watch-to-go-to-bed and the woman-who-might-END-the-man-who-needs-a-working-watch-to-go-to-bed!

So, alas, there won’t be on post today. That’s the bad news.

The good news is I eventually fixed the watch and Dad shuffled off too bed as if nothing had happened ….

I have concluded that I picked a bad week to give up booze and hard drugs!!