Which is to say...we are tired...

Dad: Um...hey...

Me: Didn't you just leave here?

Dad: Yeah. Well, no. I'm still here. Just not there.

Time passes. Things evolve. Humans acquire ESP, but Dad's never been much for adaptation and I'm not feeling like naturally selecting him out of the population given that his genes are pretty much already in the pool and done with in so many ways.

Dad: Listen, I forgot to give you the truck keys.

Me: So?

I can't think of where I'd go since my job is to stay with grandma in the hospital. The whole point of the truck was to get me here so the use of the Civic as the house to hospital shuttle could begin. So?

Dad: Ok, well, then I think I'll just leave them here in the Civic so they're with us wherever we are when we're there.

Me: (I forfeited my turn here. That last statement pretty much covered, well, everything. Everything and so much more.)

Dad: I'm going home.

Me: Oh, good.

After all, that was the whole point. If he's too tired to ride the elevator up a floor to give me the keys or carry on a coherent conversation, then he doesn't really need to be driving. I didn't argue that point since I was in that same car driving here under the same conditions just fifteen minutes earlier.

Dear God, get him home.
Scat