My mom's reward for having her second shoulder surgery is a disgruntled, very vocal surgeon who insists that she doesn't do yard work. It's spring, it's been wet, and she's getting antsy. She sent over some peonies that were to die for. I asked Boo, and she said she planted them before surgery.
Nothing like making hay while the sun shines. It might explain why Doc W thought the surgery would take less time - she did her planting in between the last office visit and the surgery itself, apparently.
She recruited Tiger's Eye, for valid reasons. He's approaching 6' and has lots of muscle. No fat, all muscle, and if he takes his shirt off, I think of BBQ sauce from all the ribs I can count. The boy needs doughnuts, cookies, cake, and peanut butter. We all should be so lucky.
Anyway...
He came home, complete with grass stains, smelling like a mix of grass, wild onions, and sweat.
"You know the claw thing?" he asked.
"The Garden Claw?" I responded.
"Yeah, the one where the commercial has the 60-year-old lady turning the thing without any problems."
"Yeah?"
"She makes the ground just turn up, you know? It's hard! I'm tired!"
Maybe he just wanted Grandma to do it. Never know with that boy.
* * *
In case you haven't figured it out, I type for doctors. This is a real gem:
Her weight is obviously not 378, as it is recorded. This was not caught until after she left. I'm sure she'll be happy to see herself lose that much weight when she comes back the next time.
Fun stuff, no?
Her weight is obviously not 378, as it is recorded. This was not caught until after she left. I'm sure she'll be happy to see herself lose that much weight when she comes back the next time.
Fun stuff, no?
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