Show Me The Money

I went to see my Dad. It was a weird experience. I was sort of uncomfortable, but he did most of the talking. So I now know who died and left who money in the family, how much everyone has, who saves their's and who blows their's. I know how he started saving when he was young. He asked how my children are. I started to tell him but it wasn't the reply he wanted. He wanted to know if they make good money and are they saving for the future. I guess I had forgotten one major thing about him. He has money signs for eyes. When most people count sheep to go to sleep, he counts bundles of bank notes. My sister used to say, "He's richer than God, and so tight he squeaks when he walks." I think it's sad really, that his whole pleasure in life is counting his money, making more, and looking at his bank books. I've always said I hope he leaves me nothing when he dies, because I wouldn't want him to come back and haunt me for what I'd end up doing with it. Going to see him just made me tired. But at least it appeased the guilt for awhile. My mom called and left a message that she "found the boxes of slides that (the neighbor) made of me, and she was copying them to mail me, so I should "get ready." That last part gave me chills. There is a part of me that thinks if he was a perv and Mom knew he was strange, and that his whole family including his dad were strange, why was she allowing him to take me off with him and make boxes and boxes of pictures of me. And what were in the boxes of slides we didn't get. I don't think I can stand thinking much more about this. It's time to go down Da Nile again! The doctor put my husband on Lipitor for his high cholesterol. He's now having pain and numbness in both arms. He mentioned it at work and found out one of his co-workers walks now with a cane and blames it on Lipitor. So we looked it up on the web and it seems like a lot of people have similar problems. I wonder sometimes what these doctors are smoking.