My dad. The host with the...something...I'm sure he has something.

I’ve told you that my dad’s niece, and, her family are coming to visit this weekend, and, how my dad isn’t all that into it, especially since it means house guests for him.

I’m wondering if he wishes he had a wife to take care of all this socializing stuff.

He’s kind of on his own with this for a while, though, since, like the good Sandwich Generation Poster Child I am, I can’t help him some of the weekend, since, I have kid stuff to take care of.

Since his guest room hasn’t been used for a while, I asked him a few questions:

Me: “Are there sheets on the bed?”
My dad: “I guess.”
Me: “You want me to hold while you go look?”
My dad: “No, not really.”
Me: “How about the bathroom, is there soap, and, shampoo in it?”
My dad: “I don’t know.”
Me: “OK, do you at least have any hotel soaps and shampoo you could put in there?”

Wait for it…wait for it…

My dad: “I don’t know.”

I imagine he’ll come through in the end, but, I’m bringing soap and shampoo with me when we pick them up at the airport tonight.

Why aren’t they staying in my house?

It ain’t my niece…

Kidding.

My mother in law is here, for, well, I don’t know how long.

Is that another sandwich altogether, or, is it just another layer?

Hmm. Sandwich. I’m hungry, now.