Dad woke up a little later than usual today, so I decided to help him along by getting his orange juice for him to take his pills with.
I usually do not help him too much, as I do not want him to lose the ability to do anything that he currently does for himself.
I put your orange juice on the table. I remarked.
He spent another 10 minutes getting his cereal ready, and I heard him open the refrigerator door, presumably to pour himself a glass of OJ.
I put your orange juice on the table. I repeated.
You just told me that. Is there something wrong with your memory? He asked.
Something like that. I said.
