Tomorrow we have nine stops to make as we run our errands. Since I can no longer drive, groceries and drug store and what-not runs no longer get done during lunch hours or on my way home.
Nine errands. Lots of miles. Frequent yelling about his driving. Several hours. Much to pick-up and/or purchase. One old married couple.
The calendar says September, but this sounds like the scariest horror movie ever. All that’s missing is flying monkeys.
That reminds me, we need bananas.
