9:27PM: Husband gets up to use bathroom. I follow from a distance because he doesn’t want me to follow him but I worry. It’s my job. Right? Also, I know he’s tired and should go to bed. Gotta make sure he doesn’t get lost going down the hall. Or fall. I ask him if he’d like to go to bed to which he replies “Why would I want to do that?” When I say “It’s late and you’re tired” he scoffs and starts shuffling back to the family room.
9:43: he’s been back in his recliner for 11 minutes. He leans forward, looks at me and announces with all the earnestness and solemnity of a 61 year old dementia patient “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed!”
We shuffle back down the hall. I tuck him in.
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