Words, words, words... Mom is loosing her words. At our last visit, I'm not sure any of her sentences made any sense. We "talked" for three hours, but I don't think in that whole time, she said anything you would consider a structured sentence.
She pointed to my knuckles and said "Poop hand."
"Those are my freckles."
"Poop on hand!"
I wonder where that thought came from?
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