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…”