The first sign of a problem and Mom did what she always did. The sensible thing. "A problem shared is a problem fixed!" as she kept telling me. And no... here we were. I tilted my head back so that I was staring straight up at the bright white ceiling wishing I was a million miles away. Anywhere but here right now.It was going on six in the late afternoon and Mom had arranged to meet me after work as she had booked a late appointment with a Doctor Meadows whom she apparently knew. I sighed in. No one rang a bell, when someone said something clever. People didn’t draw funny faces on the table. People didn’t do those kinds of things, except when they were at a party. Restaurants didn’t have scoreboards for keeping track of friendly insults. A restaurant didn’t expect some of its guests to stand around eating and drinking, while telling jokes or playing games. Restaurants didn’t have funny hats for people to wear. Restaurants didn’t have games like Twister painted on the floor.Dan sat. More

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