What is a 39?

What a treat to see Dad this afternoon.  As I said hello and gave him a kiss on the cheek - he looked behind me to see who else had come with me.  He was ready to see all the grandchildren!  They were to arrive later for an evening visit.  So he had to be content with me.  We talked for a while about whatever he wanted and I answered questions about hospital bills, insurance . . .  the boring things.  But then he wanted to go for a ride.  He was just wanted some different scenery.  The great nursing staff helped get him into his big chair and we went for a stroll. Actually the chair is made out of solid steel I think and weighs a ton to push.  But I knew he was safe in it. He also wanted to go 55 - maybe possible but not with me driving. The nurse said we could go anywhere so we hopped on the elevator and went to see the tram and the gorgeous view of Mt. Hood.  He has taken this trip with Kath and Mike and just enjoys it so much.

And now the funny line of the day.  The nurses were helping get him settled back into his own bed when they asked me how many children he had.  I said 5.  How many grand children? Etc. The questions went on until a sweet nurses aid named Juan (Dad calls him Dominic and likes him very much) said, "Excuse me, may I ask a question?  What is a 39?"  So I filled Juan in on the farm story of old #39 and the mention of the poor thing every time the beef is tough. . .

Juan was relieved to know that 39 is part of the real world and to find out that Dad was a dairy farmer.  He smiled a sweet smile at Dad and said thank you to me.

Kris