16 Steps

The only reason I am not completely obese is because I have to go up and down 16 steps at least 2 million times a day.  The butter tart rests on a napkin as I try to compose and censor my thoughts for today.  The matriarch has a cold; it is awful for her with runny nose and sore throat.  The closest Doctor's appointment I could get was for 1 week from today; she doesn't have a fever so it is not an emergency.  Still, she is uncomfortable.  My point here is I am empathetic.  I made soup for the matriarch and brought her juices without complaint.  All day.  She refused her dinner.

I, too, have a cold but can endure because I am supermom, the immortal daughter-in-law, who can travel endlessly up and down stairs and not mind request after request because I have no life except to serve.  Since 11 o'clock this evening (read that again: this evening), I have brought tea, water, peanut butter on toast, same peanut butter on toast only this time with jam, eye drops, and more water on individual trips.  It becomes a curiousity as to why separate trips are needed and requests can't be made all together.  Personally, if I wanted peanut butter and jam on toast, I would have asked for it; I wouldn't have asked for peanut butter and when it was brought up, add jam to the request and then have to wait.

My heart should go out to the mother-in-law but sometimes I feel as if she is playing me.  My husband tells me to pity an old woman but, you know, she is still a woman and a character with her own personality.  I cannot believe she didn't make these requests on purpose.  Is it a power thing?  Lately, I believe she is getting frustrated and I don't know what to do.  Right now, the matriarch has a cold; it is cold outside and wet.  Therefore, I don't think she should go out for a drive.  It's not like I am going out; I did note I have a cold, too.  Life pretty much is on the downside for all of us here right now; so why is she picking on me?