pinch sitter

A few years ago my sister Jean is at the Cape with Daisy, her adorable Airedale.  Alexander is asked to take Daisy for a walk.  He comes home carrying Daisy’s poop in a bag.  So anxious is he to rid himself of it, he opens the front door and shuts it, before Daisy’s still-attached leash clears the door.  Poor Daisy now has about a foot of freedom.  Alexander then goes to hand the bag to my mom, who has generously offered to dispose of it.   As he is making the transfer, Alexander drops the open bag and Daisy’s big poop lands on the living room floor.  All the while my father, who is engrossed in a TV show, notices nothing.  Needless to say, Alexander isn't asked to walk Daisy again.

My dad is getting faster and more agile with his walker, but he should never walk without it.  It is not worth the risk of his falling.  My mom has to run out for a few minutes today, and Alexander is happy to stay home with my dad and make sure he doesn't get himself into any trouble.

On the way home from dinner, Alexander says to me, “Papa George is walking really well.”  I assume he means with his walker.  “No, “ he says.  “Today, while I was with him, he walked from his bedroom to the living room by himself.”  Fortunately, all went well.  But what if it hadn’t?

I think Alexander will be sticking to watching young kids.  He is very good at that.