Nooky at the Nursing Home

I visited my 88-year-old mother yesterday at her apartment in her assisted living facility. She was all agog with some exciting gossip for me:

Mom: Patty, you'll never guess what's going on around here.

Me: What?

Mom: My friend Mabel who sits with me at meals--you know her. She's so fussy about her silverware. She has to have her fork just so and her knife and spoon placed exactly right before she can eat. And if her glass is even an inch...

Me: Mom, what about Mabel?

Mom: She's always talking about her husband George, you know. He's in the hospital. He had a stroke several months ago, poor thing. Mabel lives here and George is there. George used to be a pilot. Mabel was a stewardess. That's how they met. At least, that's what she's always said.

Me: What do you mean 'what she's always said'?

Mom: Well, lately she's stopped having lunch at my table and she's started lunching with Fred.

Me: Fred?

Mom: You've seen him. He always wears a cap.

Me: Indoors?

Mom: Yes.

Me: Why?

Mom: Because he's bald and he's very sensitive about his appearance. Anyway, Fred and Mabel go to a table in the corner all my themselves to eat lunch.

Me: That's not a crime.

Mom: No, of course not. But then, after lunch, they disappear for the entire afternoon.

Me: Maybe they're taking a walk.

Mom: Yes, walking straight to Mabel's apartment!

Me: How would you know?

Mom: Well, she's on the second floor and he's on the first. People have seen them going up the stairs together.

Me: To her apartment?

Mom: Yes, where they stay for hours! You know what they call that, don't you?

Me: What?

Mom: Hooking up. (I thought she might say "hanky panky" or "nooky" or something more appropriate to her age group.)

Me: Or a nooner? Or maybe afternoon delight?

Mom: So you know what I mean. (She nodded and glared at me.) And that's not all.

Me: There's more?

Mom: Last night at supper, Mabel saw Fred with his hat on and it infuriated her. She says it's very disrespectful to wear a hat at dinner. So she called out to him, but instead of saying "Fred" she said "George."

Me: So she confused him with her husband.

Mom: No. Not her husband. I said to her, Mabel, that's Fred, not George and she said, "Oops! I guess I was thinking of my other boyfriend!"

Me: Other boyfriend?

Mom: Right! It turns out she's not married to either one of them!

Me: Wow! Mom, this place is a regular sin city.

Mom: Tell me about it.

This gives an entirely new meaning to the term "social activity" at old folks' homes. Doesn't it?

(photo from www. chanters-livingstone.com)