I'm in mourning.

I bet you all read that and thought that FCBMom died. I assure you, she is just as stubborn as her son and granddaughter (The Punk) and is hanging in there with her claws fully extended. They had to put a tube in her to feed her and she was officially declared incompetent, but she is a regular source of comedic relief for the nursing staff. They think she is a hoot! I think she makes for good blog fodder.

I was at the hospital the other day and we were listening to the doctor explain the course of action they were now taking since the tube had been put in and then all of the sudden in mid-sentence he goes, "Oh look! A dolphin!"

Way to have an ADOS(Attention Deficit Ooh Shiny!) moment there, Doc!

FCBMom's hospital (she thinks she is in a hotel somewhere in Illinois) room is overlooking the river. Beautiful view. If I were going to slowly waste away in a hospital room, I would want this view. There are 2 large picture windows and you can see all of downtown from them. She also has a great view of one of the major bridges that runs through the middle of this city. At rush hour the other day she was looking out the window at the bridge and all the traffic and said, "Wow! Look at all those ducks in a row!"

Yeah, she cracks us up. She has yet to remember my name, and has called me Jan, Jane, Sarah Jane, and Sugar Plum. The nurses ask who I am and she looks at them and depending on that day's lucidity level, she either says I am her daughter, daughter-in-law, neighbor, friend, yet another nurse, some strange man(???), or this girl that keeps coming to see me even though I don't know who she is. The nurses all know me so it isn't a problem, but when I was there yesterday there were some new people staffed and they asked who I was. I told them who I was and they looked at me puzzled because FCBMom was croaking that she didn't know me and why was I in her room? I then said I was the mother of her granddaughter. Well, that registered on both their faces as they said you are Punk's mom? Yep. That's me. The oven that produced the bun! (facepalm) They went on to explain that in her more lucid moments that is all she talks about is her granddaughter. I was all warm and fuzzy inside. At least I did something right by this woman.

I was visiting her yesterday and happened to interrupt lunch as I walked in. I heard her tell the nurse to "stop feeding me that other man's food!" I knew then that the visit was going to produce a few blog worthy points. The other one being, as I was walking out the door, "I feel like the devil. Stop chasing me around, already!!" Sure will, FCBMom. Anything you say.

So anyway, the original reason for this post before I got off on a tangent was that I was in mourning. I am down to my last 2 bottles of coffeecrack and I am already dreading the withdrawals I am going to have. I have been using it with this great chocolate coffee that I had found, and the taste was scrumdiddlyumptious. Or supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.*** I can't decide which.

I was going to put something in here about being cremated(get it? Coffeemate? Creamer?) but the joke just didn't jump out at me...eh.

Also...something else that has been bothering me. I watch Disney channel faithfully every morning with the Punk at 7:30am so we can catch the latest episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She loves that show. I love the one after it. It's a Claymation Short called Shaun The Sheep. It's a riot. If you are ever up at 7:50ish am Eastern time turn on the TV and catch an episode. I know it's intended for kids, but it has just enough adult innuendo to keep the grown-ups entertained. OK. Shameless plug over.

So what has been bothering me is the dress code and relationship dynamics of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Mickey is shirtless. Donald isn't wearing any pants. They both have girlfriends that are dressed like cartoon hookers complete with Ho Shoes. Goofy is a Dog. That is fully dressed, unlike his friends. He is romantically linked to a female cow. Yet she has HORNS like a male steer. Pluto is also a dog, but is Mickey's pet, walks on all fours and is completely naked. WTF? Pete, who we all know from the earlier stuff from our childhoods, used to be the villain or token baddie. Now is is a wimped out pussy version of himself that is a sometime friend of the gang. Almost like that kid in the neighborhood that no one liked to play with, but your mom made you anyway, because that was the nice thing to do. Only Mickey has a car. That comes out of a garage that has to be unzipped. (Don't even get me started on this since every time we come home my daughter tells me to unzip the garage door.) There is a flying Mouse Ear thing called Toodles that carries a plethora of whacked out tools to solve all the problems the gang comes across in course of an episode. Like when you can't seem to reach the door of your rocket ship that you store in your secret missile silo in the backyard? Well just holler for Toodles to deliver you a pogo stick so you can hop right on up there. How about when you get another pesky pink elephant stuck up in the tree in your yard? Toodles is right there with a peanut for you, but not before he makes your bitch-ass dance the "Shake your, shake your peanut" dance.

I could keep going, but at this point...you are probably either bored or laughing too hard to read much anymore, anyway. So I will wrap this up. By all means, if anyone has any logical reasoning or explanations, please feel free to comment away.

I'm back off to the hospital for another visit anyway. I wonder what my name will be today?

***I'll be damned if blogger spell check didn't put my ass in its place by telling me I spelled that wrong and offered up the correct spelling of that word.