Visited Grandpa today. I told him I’d had to Uber in, but he didn’t know what I was talking about.
When I arrived, the first person I saw was Irene, walking around and around the common room on her own. I mentioned it to Grandpa, who said, oh yes, that’s because Hazel died last week. He said it as though she’d popped out for a loaf of bread. Poor Irene, her fear has been realised. Poor Hazel.
Conversation fell a bit flat after that, so we sat and watched his TV for a while. One of the actresses in The Midwife was being interviewed, and at one point she took offence at being called an actress, and said she wanted to be described as an actor. Grandpa wanted to know how come, as strike me pink she was clearly a woman and not a man. I told him that wasn’t the point. He said then maybe they should rename the show The Midspouse. Also, the female actors seem to be thrilled when they win that Best Actress award at the Oscars. He also wondered if Venus objects to being referred to as a Goddess. I said we should just respect people’s wishes, which initiated a rant about people who didn’t want to be pigeon-holed even as male or female, but didn’t mind being pigeon-holed as non-binary. Also, you had to refer to ‘they’ even if there was only one of them. He said he will respect their wishes if they will respect his wishes regarding correct grammar. I was surprised he’d even heard of the term non-binary. He obviously still has a few marbles rattling around up there.
On my way out, Irene was still walking around the room. I went and gave her a hug. She stared past me vacantly.