Who is that girl?

Joe essentially has no short term memory at all, so he never remembers my name, and if I leave the room for a few minutes and come back, he is totally surprised to see me.

Lately he has been talking about me a lot behind my back, but of course I can always hear him.  The conversation goes like this:

Joe:  “Who is that girl?”

Dot:  “She takes care of you.  Her name is Whitney.”

Joe:  “What do you mean, ‘she takes care of me’?”

Dot:  “Well, she helps you with stuff…”

Joe:  “What stuff?”

Dot:  “Like getting dressed and taking a shower.  She cooks for us too!”

Joe:  (defiantly)  “Well I don’t need any help.  She should be helping YOU!  You’re the one walking around all crippled up with a cane…”

Dot:  “Yeah, well…she helps both of us.”

Joe:  “Well I still don’t like it…not one bit!”

Dot:  “You should be thankful, Joe!  If it wasn’t for Whitney, you wouldn’t get to have any ice cream…or cookies!”

Joe:  (shocked)  “Is that right?”

Dot:  “Yes.  She spoils you.”

Joe:  “Well, I guess we’d better keep her on the payroll then…”