Handicapped, you say?

So, I took Mom to the eye doctor today for her 6 month checkup after her cataract surgery last year.

He takes out the remaining stitches as she's reported that she's still in pain, very periodically - feels like something is in her eye.

So, he takes out the stitches and has to patch her eye for 24 hours as he had to scratch it to get the stitches out. So, she's got this big white patch covering 1/2 her face but she says she feels fine as he numbed her before starting in.

We decide to stop at La Mex for a cocktail on the way home and a bite of lunch. I go to the parking lot in this huge Honda I now own (which I can't park worth shit...). I go to park in a handicapped space so I pull in, sorta straight for once.

I tell Mom to hold on, I'm going to pull into the next spot which isn't handicapped as I'd rather leave the handicapped space for someone who really needs it.

Mom looks at me (now, she bandaged on my side so she sort of looks at me like a parrot would quizzically look at its owner...), cocks her head and says:

'I can't see. I can't walk. Exactly WHAT do you call THIS?'

I rolled, died, gone. Had a hard time pulling the car in anyway but I was totally rolling. Nice one, Gert.