My Mom the Dancer

The other day I took my mother to the store with me. With the summer heat, we seem to be going through drinks in this house extremely quickly. While on the way to the “big box store” (the best place to stock up on a gazillion drinks) we past the “Something Something Cafe.” (I don’t remember the exact name) My mother quickly told me how she and my Dad would go there very often. “Its a nice place and we had fun there”, she said. Hmmm I thought to myself, really?, my Mom and Dad went there?

She continued to repeat herself and I tried to digest what she said. Finally after a few minutes, I had to say something. “Mom, I think you are confused, it must of been a different Cafe you went to.” I said. My mother replied, “I thought that was the place, your Dad loved it.” We are now coming to the point where I am trying to figure if this is dementia confusion, or is my mother giving me TMI. Now I just have to burst out “Mom, that Cafe is a nudey dance place.” I am laughing really hard at this point. “No, no, that’s not the place! We have never been there!” my Mom quickly laughs back. The two of us continue to laugh for a few minutes. Hmmm- my mother a dancer?

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