I have been concerned lately about how much Maureen has been sleeping: last night her short doze on the sofa came to my rescue. Around 9 ‘o’clock ‘I Iost it’, and a rather heated exchange took place. I had been dozing myself whilst watching T V, and awoke as Maureen came into the room. Several misunderstandings took place in our interaction, and I ended up telling Maureen to go away in my best Anglo Saxon. A short while afterwards I tried to dig myself out of a big hole, and Maureen suggested I might like to sleep in the car.
It is possible that I had waited my moment to tell Maureen to ‘go away’, as she had used the same parting shot as I left for London a couple of weeks ago. If revenge is sweet I was certainly not experiencing a warm feeling at all: in fact quite the opposite for needlessly upsetting the apple cart. If Tim, one of my nephews had been with us last night I know what he would have said: ‘language Uncle Paul’. He wouldn’t have liked me talking like that to one of his ‘Favourite Ladies’.
I let Maureen doze for half an hour after my expletive and then played Prince Charming. Sleeping Beauty woke up with no apparent memory of my misdemeanour. It’s one of the few occasions when I’ve been grateful for the consequences of dementia on Maureen’s memory.
I’ll try to stick to plain English from now on!