All of us seniors at the old folks home have idiosyncracies, and one of the weirdest is that of my tablemate, Wilma.
Wilma gets to breakfast first. For some reason she has taken a dislike to the little rack of indiviual servings of jam. "That takes up too much space on the table," she says. It doesn't. It is a table for four and only two of use come to breakfast. But for some reason the jam rack annoys Wilma.
So she HIDES IT.
There is a napkin storage cupboard behind Wilma's chair, and, before I get there, she hides the jam in the cupboard and shuts the door. I arrive sip coffee and butter my toast, but... where's the damn jam? By now Wilma is back in her room, chortling no doubt, about the jam stash.
Every morning I have to go to the napkin cupboard and get the jam. No big deal, but curious and annoying. I may have to speak to her about it.... again.