The start of my day

I slept pretty well last night and had a big argument with Ron, over his feet, this morning. 

His argument, if they only stink, why not use the bath wipes?  "They work on my armpits".  I told him it wasn't just stink; it was old, dead skin, and dirt on top of it.  They had to be washed, in the tub. 

I forget what he did or said but I left and started doing my own thing.  Right as I was brushing my hair, preparatory to my own shower, Ron decided he wanted to wash his feet.  He sat on the edge of the tub, got partially undressed, and got in the tub.  I told him if he was going to run water in the tub he had better take off his t-shirt as well.  He told me to get it, I did. 

Then he began bathing.  He is working on his feet right now. 

He finally finished, a lot of bitter complaining about drying off.  He went to bed, which I had made with clean sheets (finally!).  Biscuit "helped" me put the new sheets on the bed, jumping up, rolling around, etc.  I was a little impatient with him, I wanted to finish before Ron did. 

I got the bed made and rounded up his dirty clothes.  I ran a load in the washer. 

Ron, bitching at me, had asked me to go clean out "my" sink if being clean was so important to me.  I did get rid of some stuff but not the whole works. 

Then he wanted me to doctor him, his cut on his foot, the elbow (he finally felt it and got what I was saying), and a new ulcer on his right thigh.  Great.  That kept me busy for a while.  Peroxide, throw it away.  Spray or cream.  Go wash hands.  Prepare next peroxide pad.  Apply peroxide, apply cream or spray.  Repeat.   Did all that. 

Then he wanted to "talk".  Cue depressed and distorted life-view talk.  Normally I like talking to Ron but not when he's like this. 

I've got his old sheet in the washer, soaking.  I'll give it the soak and a wash and then I'll get a new one if it isn't better. 

I never did get my shower.  I'm going to go do that right now.