We went to visit my great-uncle Lavern and great-aunt Zelda this morning in there apartment at Cherry Hills Assisted Living. They sleep in their recliners, forgoing a bed entirely. Uncle Lavern has had several strokes and his speech is slurred, but his mind is still there.
"When we moved in here, she chucked the bed out on the curb," he complained to my Dad about his wife.
"You're lucky she didn't put you on the curb."
"She woulda done, but she's too little."
"Well, anybody here woulda helped her. You better be careful."
"You know what they call him here?" Zelda chimed in. "Ornery."
Lavern just laughed.