I would venture a theory that Farmer H is in cognitive decline, but that would not be accurate. His brain has always worked a little differently from the brain of a normal person. I think part of it stems from always wanting to be the boss. In charge of every little detail in order to contradict anyone else's belief, plan, or instructions.
When he came home with a bag containing the 9-volt batteries for the fire alarms, and the burner drip pans, he walked through the kitchen door, and set it by the sink. Not a problem, there was room. No dishes to wash, because he'd been to bingo, and I had a Dairy Queen burger and pretzel sticks.
Farmer H took off his coat, then grabbed the bag from beside the sink, and leaned over two chairs to set it on the back of the kitchen table.
"Why did you do that? I'll have to walk around, and lean over to try to get those drip pans."
"Well. I thought you'd complain about them being by the sink."
"I was sitting right here. I saw you put them by the sink. I didn't say a word."
Farmer H got the burner drip pans out, then set the bag of batteries back on the end of the kitchen table. Even though we keep batteries in a drawer by the stove. He walked the burner drip pans around to the stove. A story which will come tomorrow.
"Why did you leave the batteries way over here on the table, and not put them in the drawer?"
"I'll be the one changing the smoke detector battery. You ain't gonna do it."
"No. But you'll have to walk all the way over here to get the batteries, when you could have just put them in the drawer."
Farmer H grunted. Then came walking back around past the table, hurdling my sore knee that I had stretched out, and took off his cap to set on top of his coat by the door. And hurdled my knee again, to go back through the kitchen to the living room, leaving those batteries still on the back of the kitchen table.
I think his nose was complaining to his face about Farmer H's spitefulness.
3 comments:
Good to know he is not suffering from dementia, just weirdness. That coffee bar I helped him build last year has turned into a place for him to put the mail, his drill, pocket change, complete with lint. Every morning I pile all of his junk into the seat of the recliner, then make my coffee. He told me it annoyed him when I did that. Gave me a bit of a thrill knowing he found it annoying and I will most definitely keep doing it!
I'm trying to picture a grumpy old man hurdling your knee, twice while ignoring the batteries, twice.
Kathy,
Farmer H has always shuffled along to a different drummer. I can understand HeWho's logic, because I have his clone living right here in the Mansion. Of course him leaving his pocket contents on your coffee bar would not be annoying in any way!
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River,
Farmer H's hurdling style is to stump up to my leg, then throw one of his over and lurch across. He has stomped on my extremities before by using this technique, so I am always having a bit of PTSD when he does it. I was SURE he was going to pick up those batteries, but he completely ignored them while putting his hat on the chair!
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