Yep, I'm going to jail. It's a good thing I kinda like orange.
I had been home for just a little over two hours Sunday after the Pilot International convention in Louisville, when my dad-in-law, Pepaw, told me I was going to jail.
Welcome home … to dementia.
Pepaw demanded I give him the keys to his truck or he was calling the police.
"It's grand theft. You'll go to jail …
"I'm calling a tow truck …
"I talked to the chief of police, and he said if I call him again, he'll arrest you …
"I don't want you to go to jail, so return my truck …
"It's my truck …
"You're stealing my money, too. It's my money …"
Pepaw sure knows how to make up for lost time. He pulled out the new Illinois fishing license and showed it to me, saying, "I can drive in Illinois. This is my driver's license."
"It's a fishing license. See where it says fishing …"
So, pardon me for a short story today. I need to pack my bag for jail. Don't need much because I know I'll look marvelous in orange.
And as Susan Hayward said in the classic movie, "I'll Cry Tomorrow."
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