Not the "M" that may come to mind. I speak of Auntie M., who arrived bag and baggage, from Arizona in April. And I mean baggage…furniture, boxes of papers, knick knacks. Oh! And a very large, very decrepit old dog named Pepper. Reclusive, eccentric, loud, wacky are some adjectives that describe her. Her husband passed away and she has no children so she has moved in with her sister Auntie S, to live with her and her family. Auntie S is doing her favor. Auntie S may be taken away by the men in the white coats soon. She turned her house and her kids upside down to make room and accommodations. Let’s just say they aren’t getting along too well. The Divine Miss M turns out, is not so divine. She can be downright mean. She says means things about everyone. She thinks everyone is an idiot. She criticizes all of us. She isn’t well. Physically and we think mentally, perhaps in a depression. But then there are times she makes us laugh. She is happy to be around all the great nieces and nephews she didn’t know before. She is family. So here she sat in the middle of Father’s Day fun…joking with the kids, playing with the dogs, eating with the family. So I suppose, we will deal with her and figure out a way to get her to chill out be it with medication or not.

I will bring her to her doctor’s appointment on Thursday. Last time I took her to the doctor, she presented me with a penis ring* she said she found on the kitchen table while she was eating her breakfast that morning. (*I am not going into definitions…you are on the computer…Google it!). All the way to the doctor she proceeded to try and figure out who it belonged to…screaming laughing all the way. (excuse me as I crash into a pole and just end it now) Once at the doctor, we arrived to find out she messed up the time and we had to come back another day. We leave. She walks out on the sidewalk and almost slips on a box of condoms. I cannot make this stuff up. Winds up, the “ring” was a piece of a kid’s broken swim goggles. She just did it for a joke. Do you kinda get it now when I say wacky? Yeah.

So lucky me, I get to go back to the doctor with her on Thursday. I cannot imagine what adventure awaits me. Wait 'til I tell the story of the trip we have to make to Vermont to bury her husband’s ashes. That will surely be fodder for blogging.