Bedtime. I’ve changed her and emptied her “tank” as she calls it. How it hurts my heart to see her so weak and fragile. I’ve never seen someone so thin. I kiss her on the cheek and she grasps for my hand.
“Tomorrow is going to be a good day,” she chokes out.
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
She struggles for words and then proclaims with confidence . . .
“Because its CLAM BOAT DAY!”
Apparently its some sort of big greasy pile of deep-fried clams in sandwich form.
Who knows. All I know was that she was excited about trying to eat one.
It was all she could (try to) talk about all morning. As I was helping her sit up, changing her pajamas, making her kava . . .
“First . . . they bring you a clam boat. And then . . . a big pile of french fries. And then, when you’re done, you get a Happy Ending.”
I look up at my dad. He looks at me. We look at Gam. And we both started laughing. Did she just say that?
Friendly’s is a big East Coast diner/ice cream place apparently famous for a sundae called the Happy Ending. Obviously pre-asian-massage-parlor.