We had a very nice Christmas in spite of David's problems. Because of his problem swallowing, all the food he ate had to be pureed, so Jonathan pureed the paella I made. David ate two bowls. He was able to eat the flan without any conversion, and he ate two bowls.
It was hard for him to get up and down the steps because he's lost sensation in his legs, apparently from too many years of dilantin, which causes peripheral neuropathy.
He was much more interested in discussing Rose in the Titanic--and her red hair--than in the clothes Suzy and bought him, but while I was getting dessert, Suzy and Jonathan got David to try them on.
Everything was really nice until Suzy told David, who'd wanted to listent ot the Beatles instead of to Christmas music, "The Beatles are waiting for you in the car," which meant that the CD was there for him to listent to all the way back to Oakland. But David verbally attacked Suzy for trying to deceive him, "You asshole! They aren't in the car."
I'm sleepy. I've been up since 4:00 AM, and Jonathan and I took a wlak along the train at Lands End in the morning.
Merry Christmas.
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