The other week, my child came to my beach house to have myself and others help him with his QuickBooks. He was trying to figure out how to use them to do his taxes. It wasn’t meant to be for his lesson. I wasn’t feeling absolutely sick, & my eyes were so bleary that I couldn’t see. His wife sat next to me, & I talked her through the taxes. I asked my child to get my sweater for me, & he just looked at me. He went over & checked the temperature control & told myself and others that it was at seventy, & he couldn’t figure out how I could be so cold, but he got my sweater. I was finally getting warm. My granddaughter & grandson stood in the study room watching me, & they said it was too hot in the house. They were putting on their coats when their mom asked where they were going. My child had them by the scruff of the neck as they both said they were going to the trampoline; All of us had about more than three inches of snow & it was crusted with an inch of ice. My child pulled them back & told them to suffer the heating, because Nena was sick. They threw such a hissy feet. While he was there, he checked the air ducts & the air duct, even thought I told him that dad had already cleaned them. Then he checked my temperature & told myself and others to go to bed. I was allowed to hug the kids & he kissed my forehead, as they headed home.