I had the distinct pleasure of spending Sunday with my favorite mother-in-law.
She's my only mother-in-law, so I suppose she's also my least favorite, but I've always felt that I won the mother-in-law lottery. She's the original Margaret Rathunde; I'm the other Margaret Rathunde.
She had a nasty bad health scare a week or so ago, and got smacked into the hospital. Still not completely sure what it was, but she's at least home, although she's lugging around oxygen, which takes some getting used to.
She has a tank at home that's big and plugs in and makes its own O2, and then a little one for on-the-go. She walks it along with her like a dog, so we named it.
Irving allowed us to go to church, and out to lunch, and to the grocery store. Irving was well-behaved and did everything we asked of him, and when we got home, he went quietly back where he belonged. Irving is a pretty damn cool addition to the family!
Before I had to head back home, Marge did the unthinkable: She gave me her cigarettes. No, I haven't taken up the habit; she just wanted me to get rid of them. For now, she's a non-smoker.
It was a good day. There will be more good days. In fact, we're planning one tomorrow.