Vince and I figured that when mom and dad saw our property, they’d want to move here.  Dad loves it .. loves the wildlife and the open spaces with no restrictions.  Mom, on the other hand, loves the city life.  She loves going to town often, going out to eat often, visiting with her friends.  What really matters, and the reason they’ll never consider moving here is that the great grandkids live just a few miles from them but they know they can come here any time they want.  They can come to visit or we can build them a little cabin near our little house.

Maybe the problems with the conversations Vince and I have are with me and not with Vince.  Mom and I were talking.  Vince and dad were out running errands.  I was in the kitchen and she was sitting on the sofa.

Me:  What would you do if dad really wanted to move here?
Mom: Fine with me. He can do whatever he wants.
Me: If he wanted to move here, you wouldn’t complain.
Mom: No, he really likes A & W  Root Beer and we keep it at home.
Me: MOM! I said “If dad really wanted to move here, what would you say  . . I didn’t say “Does Dad like root beer“?

Then we both had a good laugh.

While they’re here, we’re constantly saying “Where’s Speck?”  Dad goes in and out 100 times a day — looking for deer or turkey or tracks or something — and since they’re not used to having a dog, he doesn’t remember to make sure Speck doesn’t escape.

Mom was sitting on the sofa quilting and I was in the kitchen.  I heard her say “Speck?” but thought she was talking to him and then she said she couldn’t find him.  I asked her to check under the blanket at the end of the sofa but she said he wasn’t there.  I walked into the family room to see where he might be . .

. . and I said “Mom, could that be Speck sitting right next to you?”  I am not laughing at her . . I do the same thing.  I spend more time looking for stuff that’s right under my nose but we did get another good laugh at mom losing Speck.