Nellie

I frequently remind Diana that as I become my mother, she becomes me.  Her response?  "AAGH."  But I have seen it happen to so many people, I know it is true.

Case in point.  Nellie.  Although both Don's grandmother and mine were named Nellie, in this case, we are speaking of Don's.  Nellie lived to the ripe old age of 98.  She did not take any medicine, except an occasional aspirin.  She drove until she was well into her 80's, because she had to deliver meals to the old people.  The day she pulled out in front of a semi (and survived it) was the last day she drove.

Don's dad used to complain that if church started at 9:30, Nellie started chomping at the bit at 8:45 to go - though she only lived two minutes away.  She was not only early . . . she was WAY early.

I began to notice Don's dad doing the same thing.  If he said he would be here at noon, we could count on him arriving by 11:30.  But when Don started acting the same way, I began to call him Nellie.  Leaving our house at 9:50 for a 10:30 service was just a little over the top.

This morning was the worst.  Don's dad has been here since Monday, and Don and his brother Kenton are taking him to Pratt to meet Kevin and Barb, who will take him home.  They were to be at Kenton's at 9:00, so they could leave just after Kenton's kids left with their Nana.  At 7:50 a.m. - yes, that is 7:50 - they headed out.  Kenton lives 25 minutes away.  So they are destined to arrive at his house at 8:25 or so.  Thirty-five minutes early.  To leave at 9:00.  Crazy.

No wonder while on our Alaska trip Jerri called him the "Butt Crack of Don."  Fits!