Fenced in

So... Grandma was discharged after 2 units of blood. The 2nd one appeared to be my idea. I kinda think at that point they were a little wary of me so when the "hospitalist" said OK, they'd give her one more unit and then we could take her home I said, "Deal!" This is the way medical care works right? Meanwhile the alliteratively named hand doctor was splinting my right hand such that it is now completely useless and I can't even shift the automatic transmission vehicle with it. Our youngest's soccer coach has a lovely alliterative name also and with a bit of a Godfatherish sound to it so I suggested if the hand doc gives up medicine, and the soccer coach gives up whatever he does besides try to get a bunch of pretty non-athletic kids to stay alert out there they'd make a great professional wrestling team.
 Oh where was I? By Friday we decided to run away. Grandma was home, the weekend safely arrived, no bad weather and a willing daughter -as long as we were home in time for her to get to the ball. We called for a room at our favorite escape for people who don't want any modern excitement - they had a room. By 10pm we were enjoying authentic

 Colonial music and food. For breakfast we buffeted with the folks from the really expensive part of town, and pretended we were too. Then we went home. Before the van turned orange (pumpkin like, get it?)
The poor daughter found the ball was too far away and grandmas's nose bled until it was to late to get to church and..

Still I shouldn't complain. I remember what's on the other side of that fence.