For the last four or five days Mom has been having little repetitive OCD sessions where she'll sit for maybe a half hour or more studying a catalog she got from Vermont Country Store. She's stuck on one page, and one offering, in particular. As a result there are several pieces of paper lying around near her all bearing one or more variations of the following inscription in her crabbed chicken-scratch handwriting: "Maple Syrup $19.95 Buttermilk Pancake Mix $8.95".
My brother noticed the other day and asked her "What's all this for?"
"I want these for Bob's birthday presents," she said. (Both of their birthdays are coming up next month, a week apart.) "They're a surprise."
"I'm Bob," Bob said.
She looked at him and said, "Oh, Damn."
We're thinking of just going to the supermarket for supplies and making pancakes for breakfast on both birthdays.
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