Next in my series of things I’ve been taught by people is the importance of etiquette. I got thrown back into the care home again this week and got to talk to enough old people for my own brain cells to have slurried to mush due to osmosis to oldness.
I have my own little summer camp that I attend every summer, I’ve come to realise that care homes are more similar to summer camp than I dare to believe. Everyone sits at the same table but some of the popular kids can move around tables without the staff telling them off, the people who work there usually have family attending or have grown up with the camp, people guard it fiercely and don’t like leaving.
Everyone has their own little tick on how they like their dinner served. Paul doesn’t want his coffee during dinner because he feels like it gets too cold by the time he comes around to drinking it. Robert eats really slowly so you have to keep one of each dessert because you don’t know what he wants. Mary doesn’t eat meat you just have to take it off the pizza before she sees it. Jessme takes dinner in her room so I’ve never seen her but her diet seems to consist mainly of puree and mashed potatoes. I’ve been doing this long enough to have come up with a few of my own habits. Whilst most the other staff have a natter or complain I just run around picking up empty plates or grabbing napkins on the ground, I like doing that kinda stuff efficiently. I’ve got my own little surplus of ice creams hidden in the bottom of the freezer in the back of this elusive cinema room, I don’t think anyone else really knows about it, so I look like a miracle worker whenever there seems to be no ice creams left.