A Bad Case of the "Yibble Bibbles"
Feels like this is gonna be a rough day.
Generally, the first words I speak on a given morning are potty instructions to my dogs. “Go potty, Raven. Go potty, Shiloh.” Pretty simple stuff. Then, when they’ve done their deeds, I urge them back to the house with instructions such as, “That’s a good girl, come on now, let’s go in the house.”
This morning, that instruction came out like, “That’s a guh… that’s… that’s a guh… guh.. good girl. Get… Get… Get… in the house.”
OK, maybe that’s just a passing thing and I’m over it.
Gail gets up, we hug and kiss, I tell her I had a good night’s sleep, we talk about the stuff we usually talk about in the morning, except she’s finishing sentences and questions for me because I’m talking like Porky the freakin’ PIG this morning.
It started again last night when we were discussing something we were watching on TV… I couldn’t get a word out, so I just pointed at Gail and she guessed the word I was trying to say. (There’s something to be said for knowing someone for 22 years.)
I should try to get some of this on tape so you can hear what I’m talking (or not talking) about. But as soon as I turn on the camera, all of a sudden I’m like Walter Cronkite.
Parkinson’s disease. How I loath you!