– Barren daughter.
He calls me.
– Jesus! Your meds cost $500 a month.
– You could always pop me off.
– Smother me with a pillow when I go to bed.
– You sleep on your good ear. You wouldn’t hear me coming.
– Just say I was smothered by a Shih Tzu.
– I’d sure miss your pension.
Dad’s never been much of a gambler. His father was; so he isn’t.
He buys Lotto Max every week though. The numbers are a configuration of birthdates.
– I’ll run away with a twenty-two year old mail order bride.
He said when he was younger.
– I’d cry if I won now. Twenty years too late.
– I’d die of heart failure from the shock of it.
– You and Kristin would be laughing at the service.
– Fifty million this week. I’ll have to run away before you declare me incompetent.
– I know where you’d be.
I say, pointing at the high metal fences of the nursing home on West Saanich as we drive by.
– Terrible girl. I’m taking you out of the will.
– Oh yeah. You already have it.
I am joint tenant on the farm.
Dad’s accountant told me it’s time to contact the lawyer and officially become Power of Attorney.
Nervous, I tell Dad what he said.
That was easy.
– Thank God I had you late in life.
He says after I’ve put on his shoes, turned on the TV and brought him the paper with his glasses and some tea.
– Lucky for you I’m barren.