Just had my daily FaceTime visit with Mom and Dad. When Mom answered, she said Dad had a couple of bits of news that she'd let him tell me.
I'm not gonna lie: Despite my best efforts, I couldn't squelch the wild hope that his news was something along the lines of "They don't know how or why, but my kidneys are working again! I'm leaving hospice and starting up chemo!"
I need hardly tell you that that was not, in fact, his news. But we silly girls still dream sometimes.
No, the news--which, under the circumstances, was still great--is that he got his first-ever pedicure last night. Mom says his toes look quite nice. I asked whether he chose neon green or hot pink nail polish, and he said he opted instead for "toenail color" (which is to say, none). Apparently it's all the rage with the male, over-75 demographic. Revlon and OPI, take note.
The other piece of news was that this morning he got his whirlpool bath (they get them every three days at Davis). He absolutely loves it, which I think is funny because he was NEVER a bath taker (and he and I often vied for Shortest Shower on the Planet--we both feel there's always something more constructive we could be doing). But I am heartily in favor of whatever brings him comfort and peace, so pedis and whirlpool baths it is.
We closed the call, as always, with my very favorite part: blowing (and catching) kisses and exchanging "I love yous." I'll take as many as I can get for as long as I can.