Camp Dorothy went on the road Tuesday with a rockin’ and rollin’ multi-destination trip. The camp’s namesake was packed and waiting at the door when the activity director arrived. Moments later, Iowa’s Thelma and Louise were on their way to the first destination:
The doctor’s office.
Six month check up time for Dorothy, and she passed the doctor’s examination with flying colors. The only thing that flustered her was the fasting blood draw. She came out of there saying, “They took a lot of blood. They nearly sucked me dry. I need coffee.”
She also needed breakfast.
So our second stop was Perkin’s, where Dorothy had her favorite of all time meal: pancakes. With coffee to wash it down. So much coffee that she agreed a bathroom break was in order before we hit the road again. Even though the bathroom was a far piece from the booth where we were sitting. A few minutes later, we were out the door and on the interstate, headed non-stop for Albert Lea, Minnesota.
Or so we thought.
Just south of Story City, Mom requested a bathroom break. The activity director snagged the handicapped parking spot outside the McDonald’s, and the camp’s namesake trooped off to the bathroom. A few minutes later she emerged feeling, as she put it “pounds lighter.” The activity director knew better than to inquire further, as the answer would include details she didn’t want to know.
A TMI situation to be avoided at all cost.
The remainder of the trip was a race. We were supposed to meet the son-in-law of the camp’s namesake’s at 1:30 in Albert Lea. Due to the unexpected potty break, we were running late. Even so, we arrived before he did, so Dorothy ordered lunch…just before she realized another potty break was in order.
Guess where the bathroom was?
Clear on the other side of the building…beyond the McDonalds, Cold Stone Creamery, Pizza Hut, Verizon kiosk, clothing display, snack food, aisles, and the coffee bar. The Camp Dorothy version of a cross-country hike designed to work up a camper’s appetite. By the time she got to the bathroom, our camp namesake was pooped.
No pun intended.
The return trip nearly did her in, but Dorothy rallied enough to eat her sandwich (though not the fries, which the ravenous camp director consumed), greet her son-in-law, and decide she needed ice cream for dessert. Which she instructed the activity director (who’s allergic to ice cream) to order for her.
Cruel, cruel request.
The ice cream finished, the fickle camp’s namesake ditched one activity director for another and headed north with her son-in-law. As the jilted activity director drove home, she thought about Dorothy’s response to the doctor’s question about her memory. Based on observations over the previous six months, the activity director prompted her. “Do you think maybe you’re having a harder time with your short term memory?” To which the camp’s namesake gave the director a blank look and replied, “Who are you?”
Gotta love her!
