When Mom was diagnosed with dementia, the doctor gave me this advice: “She’s reverting back to being a child. Whatever you do, agree with her.”

We’ve been through the “terrible twos” for about 5 years now. There are the diaper changes and the hissy fits about going to bed, but there’s also the innocent, child like side of dementia. How do I deal with it? I give Dearly Demented Mom plush push toys, of course. They dance, sing, wiggle and make her laugh.

DDM shows off her latest toy to whoever walks through the door. They are seasonal – Christmas, Halloween, Easter, etc. This is her favorite.

His name is “Bunny” – told you she was thinking like a 2 year old

He dances to “I gotta hop, hop, just gotta hop” and his ears really get going with a rhythm of their own. Dearly Demented Mom laughs every time she hits the “Push Here” button.

Every home should have their own rubber chicken

The story on this one goes way back. When Dearly Departed Husband and I were first, well, dating; he owned a fried chicken restaurant – Choo Choo’s Chicken in Ft. Worth. He was making good money there though he was working very hard seven days a week. At the time, DDH owned a nice house and bought a pot rack to hang copper pots up on it in the kitchen.

One day, I decided he was getting a bit to big for his britches, so I came up with a plan to bring him down a notch or two. I went out and bought a classic rubber chicken and hung it on the pot rack. It took DDH over a week to notice it (he didn’t cook that much), but when he did we both had a great laugh. The rubber chicken followed us through all our moves, always hanging on the pot rack. In my opinion, everyone needs their own rubber chicken.

He sold the chicken business and became very successful selling telephones to companies right after the break up of Ma Bell. We actually ended up living in a McMansion. It takes  a bunch of furniture to fill up a house like that, so we spent hours at Gabberts picking out the right things. One day we wandered on this piece of art.

Boy With Chicken

That was the name the artist gave it. We bought it on the spot because we couldn’t stop laughing. We proudly displayed him in the foyer (told you it was a fancy house).

Boy With Chicken has a special place on my front porch right next to where I sit to always remind me of my Dearly Departed Husband. It makes me smile.

Tomorrow, the last of our characters, but also the best – and a living legend to boot.

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com