Stuff

When I found my mom doing her laps, she was clutching a magazine and a bag of cookies to her chest. Along the way she started eating the cookies and offering them to others. Later we encountered a resident who accused my mom of taking her "candy." My mom argued back angrily, "I DID NOT." Meanwhile, still clutching; no more offering. Damning evidence: the magazine had this resident's name and room number on it. The cookies were then trickily confiscated. Later my mom got mad at an obsessive silverware rearranger, saying that the woman tried to stab her. No stabbing, just rearranging. Not till after we got out of the building and did a lap around the WCC parking lot, in a brisk wind, did my mom seem to get some good cheer back.