Some time ago I ran across an old friend while shopping, and we had a lengthy conversation. We talked about our children and grandchildren, and we talked about our wives and our siblings.

Before I knew it, an hour had passed and I could not remember what my wife sent me to the store for. As time neared for us to go our separate ways, my friend asked me what I was doing now that I was retired. As best I could, I described my daily life to him. I told him that for some time, my wife Billie and I had been walking about two miles every morning. Then we come home, drink our coffee and Billie reads our devotional and the Bible to me. After our showers, we dress and usually have a doctor's appointment to go to.

My friend asked me what I did with the rest of my time, and I said, "We do the same things most days - just different doctors."

I know I have shared this with you before, but it recently triggered a thought in my mind about what I really do with my life during retirement. What do we do to help our spouses? After all, they're retired, too. I help Bille with the house chores, including running the vacuum cleaner and washing the few dishes that we use. Sounds like I'm a lazy bum, doesn't it? But my help is limited because of my health.

For the past year or two, Billie and I have kept my grandson's Jack Russell, which includes giving the dog her daily pills. I'm still a long way from perfecting this little ritual, but I finally get it done. Billie puts the dog's pills in a small cup. One day I got mixed up and put the dog's pills in my mouth by mistake. I don't know what would have happened had I swallowed them, but I was sure relieved to get rid of them quickly.

I've not seen our faithful vet, Dr. Walter Hutto, to ask him about this, but I'm happy to report I'm still alive. Who knows. Maybe all I would have done was bark.

Most recently, I made another boo-boo in swallowing something. It happened one morning while Billie was sleeping late. Trying not to awaken her, I plugged in the coffee pot and poured my coffee, then added two packets of sweetener and a heaping spoonful of what I thought was creamer.

The end result of this little boo-boo was oatmeal in my coffee instead of creamer. What a terrible taste!

The moral to this little story is to exercise caution when taking your pills, and beware of your creamer.

Lest we forget ...

T&D Columnist Rinehart Chewning is a longtime resident of Holly Hill. Discuss this and other stories online at TheTandD.com.

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