ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

Whenever Salvatore, my well documented ninety- year old father-in-law comes up from Florida for a visit, he requires a home health aid to do all the essential stuff like look for his teeth, warm his prunes and help him set up the Twister board.

I'd like to take a moment and say good bye to Holly, the latest of that profession to buckle under that enormous pressure. Just in case you're keeping score, Holly, there were six highly qualified people before you who also turned in their badges, so don't feel bad. Normally they last a week or two and if memory serves correctly the all time record is eighteen days but, unfortunately, that particular aid is now spending her days in a padded room, drooling and drawing carving knives with crayons on her notepad.

What is it about Sal that makes aids as well as the rest of the world so uncomfortable? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that when he's not busy napping he likes to touch people, most of them strangers and all of them women. Even in the supermarket he still does the old 'squeeze the melon' test. The only problem is the 'melons' he's reaching for are in the frozen food isle and they're attached to actual female bodies. Did I mention that my father-in-law has been permanently banned from Price Chopper?

Let's take a closer look at the time line and see if Holly may have overreacted, OK?

Day #1: Sal asked her if she wouldn't mind clipping his fingernails. She thought nothing of it and went to get the clippers. When she came back in the room (kitchen) there he was...naked. He claimed he didn't want to get any clippings on his clothes.

Day #2: Michele asked Holly to help him write a letter to his girlfriend, Anna, in Florida (age unknown due to lack of carbon dating evidence). He seemed to be doing quite nicely all by himself and when Holly took a look at the finished product, she noticed a passage that read "I can't wait to get back and slip my hand underneath your knee high stockings." Trust me when I say there are a few things no son-in-law, daughter, home health aid or any other human ever needs to know about and that's one of them.

Day #3: This was the day the wheels fell off. I was getting ready to go out and cut the grass when Sal started getting antsy. Holly was preparing his peaches and Miralax when he told me to hurry up and go outside. Meanwhile Holly was making violent gestures in the background begging me not to leave her alone. I assured her everything would be fine and went on my way. No more than a few minutes later, I saw her car peel out of the driveway. I managed to flag her down and after seeing her face muscles all tightened and her eyeballs practically bulging out of her head, it became pretty obvious that time had run out on her patience meter. "He kept pinching my butt," she told me. "I know. I'm sorry about that. He thinks you're Leah Remini from King of Queens. What exactly did you say to him?" She took a deep breath and said, "I slapped him, plopped him on the toilet and told him to wait until his brains came out and then flush them."

Well Holly, the votes are counted and you'll be happy to know you did not overreact. We want to thank you for giving it a shot. Please be aware that Sal means no harm, he's just a ninety-year old horndog. It was nice almost getting to know you. Michele and I hope your therapy goes well and, by the way, should you ever worry about running into Sal in public, two words: Price Chopper.