But I am playing one this month.
The men in my life are having a plague of unfortunate health.
I wonder if they have coordinated this?
It all started with a little toothache for Archy G after our adventure scoping for deer.
He went to the dentist after a bit of cajoling.
By the next day, Archy G had a swollen face and discolored gums.
Which means I left my office (2 1/2 hours from him) in a frantic rush to get him back to the dentist.
You do not fool around with mouth infections.
Incisions took place. Infection was removed from his gums.
And now we are squeezing in a little trip to Reno before our vacation (more on that later) to make sure it doesn't happen again.
He got several days of soup making, movie watching, and coddling from me. Happily. He's a good patient, even if he is a boy...
Fortunately he was able to muster the strength to go hunting when Archery Season opened on Saturday.
My Dad, on the other hand, is not making so speedy of a recovery.
Forty years of manual labor and favorite pastimes, including...but not limited to... playing high school football, wrangling cows, riding motorcycles, cutting firewood, hauling buckets of blood bait, digging holes, driving heavy equipment, fixing heaving equipment, stretching belts on rock crusher conveyors, hand shaking with church members, moving me across the states of Arizona and California and the Intermountain West no less than 8 times, hunting, hunting, fishing, hunting, fishing, fishing, and fishing.....have given him a set of bad shoulders. Bone spurs and frozen shoulder syndrome to be exact.
He's put it off for about 5 years, but the doctor finally said "Nerve Damage" and now he has to have them fixed.
So here I am in Havasu, iced tea making, movie watching, and hanging out with him while he recovers from the first of two surgeries. Yesterday's included breaking up scar tissue, bone shaving, and the insertion of a "pain pump." From experience, I know that Dad is not a very good patient.
Sitting still is not his thing.
He won't be able to do much for the next 10 days. No driving. No juggling. No shoe tying. No back flips or jumping jacks.
And worst of all, no sudden movements like swatting at his daughter for taking pictures of him wrapped in a pink polka dotted blanket.
I only wish I had gotten a short video of him blowing bubbles in his cups of water and apple juice yesterday when he was waking up from the anesthesia.
I suppose there is always next time.