We aren't in Oklahoma City anymore... (j/k).
Grandma Annie is going to hate this room when we leave. The other one was in a giant horseshoe setting with the nurses station right smack in the middle of the shoe and her room wall facing the station was a glass wall with a large sliding glass door with a curtain. When she tried to leave, she said she wanted to get out of here and go somewhere. I told her it was late and that nothing would be open so that she would be content and sleep. But she kept persisting so Francie opened her big mouth and told her it was still Sabbath, (as we do not buy, sell or work on Sabbath, there would be nothing to do outside of here). I was like... "Franc- how can it be Sabbath if it's too late for anything to be open?" I guess neither of us were misleading her, as it is late for us being on Michigan time and being so tired; and it really is still Sabbath (until sundown).
Oh, and mom is driving us nuts. We aren't allowed to touch ANYTHING because it's FILTHY. She is like a hawk. I had my legs crossed and was touching the hem of my jeans. Mom freaked out... "no! don't touch your pants! Go wash your hands and when you get back to the hotel put your jeans in a plastic bag" (because my jeans were long enough to drag on the ground). This room has a ledge all along one wall for sitting. We aren't allowed to sit on the cushioned portion without sitting on a pillow because "have you seen how dirty it is?". She is not a major germ-a-phobic but hospitals are her weakness. Kristen slid her tennis's off and was touching the heal of her foot. Mom made her put her shoes back on and wash her hands - all in a panic of coarse.
I sort of wish Adam would have been able to come for the simple reason that he would've been able to understand why I am a pack rat/messy person and an animal lover, and realize that it isn't my fault... it's in my genes, out of my control, not a thing I can do about it. And this morning before church service, Grandma Annie's pastor stopped in. He said her distinguishing characteristic was that she tells it how it is, and there isn't anything she won't say. I had to laugh to myself... that is clearly a character trait specific to our family. So next time I open my big mouth and stick my foot in it, you can all blame her; she gave it to me. Another thing I can't be held accountable for; out of my control.
