September 25th, 2006

Tuesday, September 26

Panel 1: Now, what the heck is this? I never knew the olds lived in a high-security building. Or is Jim actually in a hospital, and we're just now being apprised of that fact? At any rate, is anyone's sense of smell that good, that they can differentiate prime rib from any other kind of beef, or meat in general? And is he serious, or kidding, like when the Greyhound baggage handler saw that I had a box of Amish peanut brittle and said, "Ooh, I'm gonna have to confiscate that!"

Panel 2: OMG. WTF. BBQ.

Panel 3: Holy... We were right. I hate to be a vulture, but for once we were right.

Panel 4: For once, the attempt at humor strikes just the right note.

Poor Jim. Seriously, for all the grumbling we've done, I really feel for him. And for Iris, and Elly, and especially April, who was closest to him of all his grandkids. One quibble, though: why didn't Iris call someone already? I know when my grandma was in assisted living, there was a panic button in every apartment. The guy at the front desk is evidence that Iris has a similar option. But maybe she was too distraught, and it happened just minutes earlier, so she didn't think of that.

Well, here's hoping that whatever it is, Jim doesn't suffer unduly.