The TV continues to be a centerpiece in Grandma's life. DH found a remote control online that only has power, volume, channel and mute buttons. He bought three. With a Sharpie marker, we labeled each remote with the TV it controls (ie: the room it belongs in). Grandma still manages to carry them from room to room and gets frustrated when the TV won't work with the remote she's using. She then calls for DH, who fixes it for her.
DH and I enjoy watching some of the crime drama programs on television but have found these not to be Grandma's cup of tea. She doesn't care for any kind violence... so when we watch with her, we opt for game shows and reality television. She also likes sports, so if all else fails, there's always ESPN and the Golf Channel.
There are a few programs she especially looks forward to... one being, Lawrence Welk. Yes indeed... Grandma is the Champagne Lady (move over Norma Zimmer) every Saturday night when Iowa Public Television airs a thirty or forty year old rerun of this musical classic. Last evening, when DH and I returned home, we found Grandma fully engaged in her favorite weekend activity. I comment quietly to DH that we should have recorded it for her. At the next commercial, DH takes the remote and restarts the program, pressing "Record". We then sit down to watch the program with her. A middle-aged blonde in a bright blue suit begins singing.
G: Oh good, they have her on again. She sang a little while ago.
DH: Did she sing this same song?
G: No, it was a different one... and she didn't dance like that either.
We smile that Grandma had some recognition of what she'd seen an hour or so earlier, but was getting a little different perspective this time round. She enjoyed the repeat of a religious number as well as a dance number. I think she thought it a bit odd that the show's finale was "another" patriotic number, but she thoroughly enjoyed every song, every time.
This afternoon, we were again watching the Golf Channel. As with any sports broadcast, the commercial content is fairly predictable... beer, cars and other 'guy' appealing advertisements. Sure enough, right as we return to the 13th hole, Grandma asks the question I've long dreaded.
G: What's Cialis?
DH: What?!
G: Ci-alis. Is that how you say it? What is that for?
Me: It's a pill for men. (I exercise extreme caution NOT to lift my head from my laptop keyboard.)
G: What's it for?
Me: It's testoterone. Just like women lose estrogen as they age, men lose testosterone. It's testoterone replacement therapy.
G: Oh.
Not only can I not make eye contact with Grandma... I am careful not to look at DH either (at the risk of one or both of us losing our composure.)
A minute later, my cell phone signals a new text message. It is from DH (who is sitting 3 ft. away from me) ... "Just call it a boner pill" This graphic term is used regularly on one of our favorite sitcoms, which is likely what DH feels like he's starring in!
So ends Episode 14
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