The Grocery Store
Stephen Mosher
A documented conversation that took place in the supermarket during one of my last trips home before Mama went into the Memory Care Facility.
Before I tell this story, I should say my parents always make each other laugh, they love to play, they love to laugh, they enjoy each other very much, at all times.
Daddy: I wish you would stop that.
Mama: What?
Daddy: Eating the produce.
Mama: It was just a cherry. To see if they're good.
Daddy: I already have some in the cart.
Me: Do you want me to take your cherry pit?
Mama: No, I'll put it in my pocket.
Me: What else do we need?
Daddy: Bananas.
Mama: Oooh! The broken bin!
Daddy: They always have good things in the broken bin.
Mama: Can I have that?
Daddy: No, you have diabetes, you can't have coffee cake.
Mama: But I want it.
Daddy: You can't have it.
Mama: I'm gonna throw my cherry seed at you. (She does). Look. I got him. Right between the feet.
Me: It would be funny if it were a cherry danish.
Mama: I like the sticky buns.