Caregiver Humor: It Pays to Go to School...

 

It Pays to Go to School

_____________________________

A couple of childhood sweethearts, who were married and lived in the same neighborhood they were raised in, celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary by visiting their old high school. They held hands as they found the desk they’d shared—the one on which he had carved “I love you, Dolores.”

On their way home, they froze when they heard tires squeal as an armored truck tried to turn too fast around a corner. Suddenly, the back doors flung wide open and a bag of money fell out rolling to a stop right in front of their feet. Dolores quickly picked it up. They didn’t know what to do with it, so they took it home.

At home, she counted the money—fifty thousand dollars.

Her husband, Bob, exclaimed, “We’ve got to give it back!”

Confident in the law, she replied, “Finders keepers,” and put the money back into the bag and hid it up in their attic.

The following day, two FBI agents walked door-to-door in the neighborhood asking each of the residents about the money. Dolores and Bob answered the door.

After introducing themselves, one of the FBI agents asked, “Did either of you see a bag of money that fell out of an armored truck yesterday?”

Dolores quickly replied, “No.”

Bob corrected her and added, “She’s lying. She hid it up in the attic.”

Dolores explained, “Don’t believe him, he has Alzheimer’s.”

The agents, thinking they may have found the money, invited Bob to sit down and tell his version of what happened. “Tell us the story from the beginning,” one said.

Bob sat up and explained, “Well, when Dolores and I were walking home from school yesterday .…”
The FBI agent turned to see his partner’s reaction. They both sighed and shook their heads. “Well, I think we’re finished here.”

Author Unknown
______________________________
Despite efforts to find the creators of these works in order to give them credit, we sometimes publish their stories because they bring JOY to overworked caregivers. If you can prove the author’s identity, please contact The Caregiver’s Voice editor.

 

Thank you, Eric Riddle for permission to post a photo of your old-fashioned school desk.

_________________________

Dementia Signage for the Home

Caregivers' Travel Plans From Comedian George Carlin

The late comedian, George Carlin, has visited places many places during his career, but his unique perspective of each of the following destinations is worth enjoying:



I have been in many places, but I’ve never been in Cahoots.

Apparently, you can’t go alone. You have to be in Cahoots with someone.

I’ve also never been in Cognito.

I hear no one recognizes you there.

I have, however, been in Sane. They don’t have an airport; you have to be driven there.
I have made several trips there, thanks to my children, friends, family, and work.
I would like to go to Conclusions,

but you have to jump, and I’m not too much on physical activity anymore.
I have also been in Doubt.

That is a sad place to go, and I try not to visit there too often.
I’ve been in Flexible, but only when it was very important to stand firm.
Sometimes I’m in Capable, and I go there more often as I’m getting older.
One of my favorite places to be is in Suspense!

It really gets the adrenalin flowing and pumps up the old heart! At my age I need all the stimuli I can get!

I may have been in Continent, and I don’t remember what country I was in.
It’s an age thing. They tell me it is very wet and damp there.

Dementia Signage for the Home

_____________________________

Weekly Planner (Bright Pink) Memo Pad

$30.95

Weekly To Do List Notepad (White)

$30.95

EZ-C Bold Yellow Weekly To Do List Notepad

______________________________

Dementia Signage for the Home

$22.75 - Financial Records Organizer Vinyl Binder

$22.75 - EZ-C Bright Green 3 Ring Binder

$26.90 - 3.5" x 2" Index Cards (100 pack) Business Card Templates

Caregiver Humor: Food fight by Candlelight

Former caregiver Shirley Jenkins shared this funny Food Fight story in Finding the JOY in Alzheimer’s: When Tears are Dried with Laughter

When my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I was fortunate to be able to place her in a nursing home about five minutes away from where I lived. This allowed me to visit with her at least several times a week. We took walks together, and before she was really sick, we would go out for dinner, lunch, or ice cream. She was an avid reader, and I took books to her all of the time. And, when she could no longer read, I would sit and read to her. I was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time with Mom in the last years before her death.

After a while, Alzheimer’s played the cruel trick of role reversal with Mom and me. There were times when she would call me Mom. She also started acting like a three-year-old in stressful situations. I was getting complaints from the home that she would hit other residents for no apparent reason. Before Alzheimer’s struck, Mom was a sweet, kind, and quiet person.

Having Mom act like a three-year-old was quite a surprise for me, especially since she created havoc when we were together. In fact, one particular event comes to mind.

The nursing home in which I placed Mom was quite nice. In addition to regular events and activities, they also hosted elegant dinners for residents and their guests. These were wonderful dinners with white tablecloths and linen napkins. The meal was served by candlelight and a pianist played music for everyone’s enjoyment. They were lovely, elegant evenings, and Mom and I always looked forward to them.

At our last elegant dinner, Mom was starting to show the effects of the Alzheimer’s. We were served a menu of baked, boneless chicken breast, mashed potatoes with butter, a vegetable, hot rolls, and wine, dessert, and coffee.

We sat at a table with another resident and her guest. During dinner, Mom kept trying to eat her roll with a fork and her mashed potatoes with her hand. I cleaned the potatoes from her hand and gave her the fork. Then I broke her roll into small pieces. After my third attempt at encouraging Mom to use a fork for her mashed potatoes, she stabbed her roll with the fork, grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes, and threw the glob into my face.

Everyone who saw the food missile hit me gasped and then started to laugh. Soon all of us were laughing. The laughter made my mom laugh, too. All this laughter brought the nurses in to see what was happening. As one of the nurses helped me clean up, I told her “I think this is the last of our candlelight dinners.”

And, unfortunately, it was.

Dementia Signage for the Home