Member-only story
Just Tell Me What You Want
I have many skills, but mind-reading is not one of them.
This all started more than six months ago when Mom, coming down to breakfast made the comment that she had been thinking about peanut butter. Apparently that early in the morning my brain was not fully engaged and I made some random reply about that being an unusual thought to have early in the morning but made no move to get it. I started to leave the kitchen and saw she had begun rummaging through the cabinets and then the refrigerator, looking, so it seems for the jar of peanut butter.
Ever since then I have been very sensitive to comments like these, making every effort to accommodate whatever anyone seems to need, based solely on a comment.
The other evening my in-laws sat down to dinner and as they finished their grace, Dad glanced from his place setting to Mom and her setting.
They both had the same meal, plated in the same fashion, and their evening medications which they take at mealtime were in the usual place in front of them. Mom picked up her napkin, placed it under her chin, and began to eat.
Dad, however, kept glancing at the table: silverware, napkin, his plate were sitting in the usual and customary place. The little plate on which his dessert was set was just beyond his placemat within his reach.
