It's been close to seven months since the last post- getting better! And life in Dementia Land has settled into a uncertain kind of routine. The only things that are certain, is that it's going to be hard, emotional, and primarily over ruled by a temperamental 44 year old. Yesterdays adventure was about macaroni and cheese.
Yes, mac n' cheese. How can mac n' cheese become a deal, an issue you ask? Something that someone will argue tooth and nail, and will go twenty rounds over? Well, first take a Marine, smother him with Dementia, make him a virtual reclues that seldom leaves home, and all of the sudden, minute details- like the shape of the pasta used in the mac n' cheese is worthy of inquisition style "discussion".
"This isn't Macaroni and cheese."
"Yes it is. Homemade. Even baked it, so you would have the crunchy edges you like."
"No, this isn't macaroni. So by definition, this can't be macaroni and cheese. It's something else. I hate it when you do this to me. Do you do this on purpose to mess with me? You used a different kind of pasta, bow ties."
"Yeah, it's all an evil plot to drive you insane over pasta shapes. Pasta, is pasta. It all tastes the same."
"But it's not the same, if it were all the same it would all be called pasta, but it's not..."
And so we're off. About here is when I start to hear only static. In my mind I'm recounting all the different times he had seen me cooking bow tie pasta, seen the box of bow tie pasta on the counter earlier in the day, had seen our daughter eating her mac n' cheese, because she doesn't like her's baked, but yet none of it stuck or made it through the Dementia haze to click into place. We do the same damn thing when I forget and call rigatoni "spaghetti".
Welcome to Dementia Land. Please be sure that all your possessions are secured and you are fully strapped in. It's going to be a wild ride.
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