From the Ridiculous to the Ridiculouser...

I know it should be 'from the sublime to the ridiculous' but these two stories really are both the ridiculous. Story #1: When Papa had his surgery to remove the skin cancer that was growing in his ear, I took him to the hospital. It was out-patient surgery but they were giving him medication that would impair his ability to drive. We got there on time and waited in the waiting room. They called him back to prep. Once they had him settled into the bed waiting for his turn in surgery, they called me back and visited with me. I talked with the anesthesiologist (spelling?) and the doctor and the nurses. Then they wheeled him out for surgery and I went back to the waiting room. When surgery was finished, they called me back to visit with Dr. Shashy who performed the surgery. He explained exactly what he had done and answered my questions about Papa's care after the surgery. I then waited in the waiting room for a bit longer until Papa was awake enough for me to take him home. One week later Papa went back to Dr. Shashy and to have the stitches removed and be sure he was healing properly. Papa went to this appointment alone. Dr. Shashy greeted him and asked where his 'wife' was. Papa looked at him and said, "In the nursing home?" Dr. Shashy was obviously confused by that answer and said, "Who was that with you last week at your surgery?" Papa grinned and said, "That was my oldest daughter." Dr. Shashy was a bit embarrased. I'm a bit amused when Papa shares the story with me. Story #2: Yesterday I went into Georgetown to sing with Papa at the nursing home. I went a few minutes early because I needed a few things to continue getting ready for a Relief Society Leadership Meeting in October. I needed 3 things, one of which was more rubber cement. I quickly gathered my 3 items and headed for the check-out counter. As the lady scanned my items, I was rummaging through my purse for my wallet. Then I heard the lady actually ask me, "Are you over 18 years of age?" I looked up in surprise and as I looked up my eyes caught the display that shows the total you owe. It really had the questions about age on it and a place to answer yes or no. I looked at the nice lady and said, "Look at these gray hairs and tell me what you really think?" She said, "I have to ask." Then my mind raced through what I had purchased and it dawned on me it was the rubber cement. I asked if that was why the question and she assured me they can't sell rubber cement to anyone 18 and under. She has a LIST of things they can't sell to anyone 18 and under. One is those cans of compressed air you clean out computers with. OH...MY...GOODNESS!!! So, I was carded yesterday to be sure I was over 18 years of age and a month ago I was thought to be my father's wife. Is this not a whacky world sometimes???