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Well them Dirk Gently had it right, because whe we were ordering newbedroom furniture, we wanted the matching hutch type piece that encloses the TV, to have doors that slid into the sides, not the swing open type. We explained that our bedroom (mainfloor) had a deep angle, and gave the the measurements with a diagram, NO PROBLEM they told us, but were quickly proven wrong at delivery time. Thankfully they did have one a couple of inches smaller that did work, in the same pattern, but with the doors that open wide, and just as I suspected all these years later, I still hate it, as the doors often get left open. Now we've decided to get a wall mounr flat screened TV, so will discard this top piece altogether, making our bedroom look bigger anyways. I don't know what we were thinking filling up our bedroom with too many pieces in the first place. I wish we could start over altogether with new stuff like newlyweds when we sell our house and move into a Condo. We may have to as All of our furniture is geared for this much bigger home, and I doubt that we will have this sort of space in the new place! Cool, I may get my way yet! Someday!
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Gershun,
Than.ks for that rap.
My jeans are new, fit perfectly, except they are from walmart and are at least 3 sizes bigger.
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And that is why we spell Cinderella a new way today. Too bad the story ends right after she was fitted with the glass slipper.
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The reasons a woman knees hurt when they are older is to prevent her from kneeling to anyone any more....not that I ever did so why do my darned knees hurt? Ah! that would be making the coal fires up every day for years - we now have central heating
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See ya there!

Scaredtaker, You are not invisible, you are so funny and intelligent! I see you there, crying like a good little brat, saying what: "'Just shut up" ?
Have you been behaving badly as a caregiver? Whadja do?
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Oh I am positive that there are many brats in heaven.
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Absolutely refusing to remember, ha ha ha, I forgot!
There has never been a time better than today! !Yay!
There has never been a time when my knees could take kneeling down.
Heaven takes brats too, ya know?
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Since Phoenix is writing poems I thought I'd compose a rap. So here it goes.

Its Entitled "Yeah, I wonder Why"

Remember when your jeans all fit
Now it's muffin top & the seams all split
cause our hips don't lie but they sure are wide.
Man they sure are wide

Remember when those sleep lines had a shelf life.
Now they're here for life. On our face reminding us
that we smiled, frowned or just didn't get around to
getting that botox, that cream. Hell, what does it all mean?

Remember getting out of bed with a smile.
Now it takes a while....gotta get those kinks out
Before I can even walk to the john, gotta put my
knee brace on.

Remember when you had an eye crease for your
eyeshadow. Now it's stuck under your flabby eyebrow.
Remember when you had bouncing & behaving hair
Now it's flat & stuck to your head & thin.
You have more hair on your chin

My stomach muscles are out of sight
It just ain't right
Even my knees are flabby
Is that why I feel so crabby?

Thought I'd be happy when my period ended
But now I worry about menopause cause it's got me
bended. On my knees, begging God please
I want to end my life with some ease
Oh please, pretty please, let my life end with ease.
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If ever, when has ANY man been trainable?
Not to bash men, but often they can behave like little puppies and break training.
Guess we will all have to wait for spring.

Men should understand by now we want to just love them, laugh with them, etc.

I love laughing on this thread, but need more ideas on how to be a better brat. I am sure Gershun can help, our expert on acting out.
How bout you, Gershun? Would you rather poop in a diaper, or on a pad?
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OMG Veronica, tell me you are kidding :-O
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Atwitsend why not get MIL a bag to hang on her walker and maybe just maybe she will drop her trash in the bag. FIL simply isn'I going to change old men are not trainable. I know I live with one!
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Msmadge there seems to be a policy in care facilities these days of not using diapers. They just sit the patients on incontinence pads which are a lot easier to change and clean up than changing a diaper. I thought this was an unecessary humiliation until I experienced it first hand. I"ll spare you the details!!!!!!!
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So I now know where my husband got his habit of not throwing wrappers and what not away. His dad leaves toothpick wrappers and papertowels sitting wherever he pleases and his mom leaves kleenex and cheese wrappers wherever too! Grrrr. How hard is it to walk to the garbage can and throw that away? Even if she has to use a walker to walk, she is well capable of doing it. Double grrr because she still wants me to wait on her all the time!
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Love the poem Phoenix
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am i invisible
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Call the family up, get them all home! Respite for you, now!
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Phoenixdaughter, Make that doctor's appointment and make all your dreams come true!

I fear that anger management cannot help much when there is to be ongoing, justifiable anger in response to a real stressor. Sounds more like a recurring nightmare that needs an immediate solution. dear jude.
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I am calm, I said I AM CALM, well actually NO I AM NOT BLOODY CALM AT ALL
I actually hate caring for my mother - there I have said it
I hate the way she thinks its OK for her to treat me like a skivvy
I hate the way she talks down to me in front of her friends

and AND and trust me if I could get a bigger font I would use it she only told the doctor in front of me that I was a useless carer. So the doctor spoke to me and I explained the situation in full with all the issues of dependency etc and she said now lets see how we can help - great I thought at last she will agree to me having some respite before I lose it. She wants me to go to anger management classes!!!!

I was very good - incredibly well behaved. I said I could sort it very quickly without anger management - and how do you intend to do that. I am going to walk away and leave you to do the caring and I promptly gave her a set of house keys and walked out the door.

Then I woke up and realised that dammit I had been dreaming about what I wanted to do!
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"It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it"
No wonder the elderly don't trust "The Help" coming in.
Do you think the movie is why?
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MsMadge I will never, never forget the wonderful Sissy Spacek splitting her sides and sobbing with laughter: "and you asked for a second slice!!!"
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Dear memory care facilitator FOR ALL TO SEE

We need to have a new contract
Written for all to see
You can write it and we will BOTH sign it
ONCE YOU AND I AGREE

I know that mums incontinent
Its in her notes for all to see
So why isn't it being addressed properly
WHEN I PAY THE BLOODY FEE?

From this day on It will be addressed
With instructions for all to see
And heres a bill for her Terry pants
And my time with disgust to you FROM ME!
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Really bad night at mom's memory care facility - 1:30 in the morning and I'm still trying to scrub the poop out of her favorite pink French terry pants because despite the xtra $450 a month for incontinance care they don't put a diaper on her - grrrrr
Maybe I'll make a special chocolate cream pie for the staff
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I thought logistics and delivery services had been steadily improving over the decades, one reason I'm so sick about this. In fact, it was because they used to be so abysmal that my ex-husband taught me one of the most useful life lessons I've ever learned.

We were furnishing our first own house: we'd gone to a major high street furniture chain (this was before IKEA got going) and ordered almost everything from them, and spent a lot of money for those days. Over the next six months, all told, they got absolutely everything wrong. Everything. Postponing deliveries, sometimes several times over. Turning up without warning when we were out. Not turning up when we'd taken days off work to let them in. Demanding payment, when we'd paid up front already. Bringing the wrong things. Bringing the right things damaged. Bringing the right thing in the wrong colour. Bringing too many. Bringing more instead of taking some away. Bringing another bookcase instead of the sideboard. Not returning calls. Not answering the phone. Brilliantly, once ringing to check that we were happy with our order - I think that was the only time I cried on the phone to them.

Once the last item was at last delivered, I sat down to write a letter of complaint, giving them full details of everything: order numbers, dates, events, just the full history, no embroidery. I concluded by telling them we were outraged with the treatment we had received and (I can hear my mother's voice) would never consider buying from them again. My ex looked over my shoulder and said "what's the point of telling them that? Ask them what they propose as compensation, instead." Good point, I thought; and changed it.

They sent us a cheque for £100, quite a lot of money in those days, and as a final flourish they sent it to the wrong address.
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Thankless, most likely it would have been loaded on the truck in the original manufacturers box and the delivery men wouldn't see the damage until they got to your place and unwrapped it.
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Churchmouse, I'm here chuckling, (in solidarity, of course), at your misfortune with the non-bed, cream-supposed to be brown, sofa bed. It reminds me of the 3 attempts they made to deliver a hutch for the dining room. Wouldn't you think it would be inspected or at least looked at BEFORE it was loaded on the truck? How can you not see the broken glass? I could even catch that "detail" without my glasses on! Or are there little gremlins that hide in the truck, destroying the furniture as the delivery men drive to the customer's house? That must account for the complete look of confusion on their faces when observing the broken glass doors!

Too bad we can't see the humor of the situation until a few years pass.

Damn it Liam, bring her the right sofa!!!!! 😡
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There's a background scene in one of Douglas Adams' books: Dirk Gently's supercomputer is running a CAD programme which proves that it is impossible for a 3-D object, shaped like a sofa, to fit into an L-shaped space, shaped like a stairwell. A couple of pages later, Dirk and his guest go upstairs in the house and have to wriggle their way past the real sofa which is wedged in his real stairwell.
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Churchmouse,I had a 5,000 ton sleeper sofa delivered one time. It was going to a third floor condo and I told the delivery guys that there was no way it would make the turn from the exterior hallway into the unit and then down the interior hall.

They didn't believe me. Hauled it up three flights of stairs, struggled for 20 minutes....went back down three flights, around the back of the building and then hoisted it up to the balcony with ropes.

I tried to tell them.
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Still happy to read and see all of your remarks, everyone. Thank you so much for lifting up my day with you being you!
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Mother loved frills and marabou and ruffles and lots of bling,so dressing Mom for Halloween as Lady GaGa was easy out of Mom's own closet.She also had some Lady GaGa sunglasses she wore and I could pin anything I wanted on her like bugs and butterflies and dinasours and she wanted her face painted with big hearts on her cheeks.Everyone loved Mom and her costumes so much.The 3 little children down the street always called Mom Lady GaGa when they saw her on our walk around the block till the end.She really wanted to be on the stage,but did what her Mother wanted and was a good wife and Mother instead.Mom wore another costume a lot too.She would dress up as Rose ONeill,the creator of the Kewpie doll in a big burgundy robe,tied with a gold rope and she'd have all her long hair down and she went around to ladies groups and gave talks....just because she wanted to and oh how she loved the applause!I would never do ALOT of things Mom had the desire to do but I was always on her side,beside her supporting her latest whim.I bet she's putting on shows in Heaven now.
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Send, the last boss that told me that the team needed to wear costumes for Halloween as team-building exercise was greeted by me in my regular clothes. "I am dressed as a motivated employee". We had just had a layoff that cut 1/3 of labor force and we were working unpaid overtime to keep our jobs. Ah, the 80's......
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