(I found this in a pile of my writing. If I posted this already, just disregard it. I couldn't find it.)
Sometimes in the interest of keeping my residents happy, I do things that make zero sense to anyone but the resident.
Mrs. A rolled up to me in her wheelchair.
"Let me sign that myself," she said.
"Sign what, Mrs. A?" I asked.
"Sign that paper," she said, like I had any idea what she was talking about.
So, I pulled out a Post-It Note, put it on my clipboard, handed her a pen, and held the board so she could sign it.
"Well, that looks like crap," she said as she returned the pen to me.
"No. I can read it. That's all that matters," I told her.
"That's all that matters," she repeated as she rolled away.
"What can I do for you, Mrs. B?" I asked as I entered her room.
"I want to go to bed," she said.
"It's about supper time. How about we wait until after you eat?" I leaned over her chair and turned off the call light.
"No. I want to go to bed now."
"Alright," I said and we got started.
By the time she was done washing up, changing into her pajamas, and brushing her dentures, she said, "I'm hungry."
I snorted. I couldn't help it. "Well, how do you feel about going to supper in your bathrobe?" I asked and held her teeth out to her.
She laughed. "Won't be the worst thing they've seen down there. Remember the time Mr. C took off his pants?"
"Here," Mrs. D said, handing me her slipper.
"Want me to put this on for you?" I asked, kneeling down.
"No. It's for you," she said.
"But, it's your slipper."
"You keep it," she said.
"OK. Thank you," I answered, smiling and walked to the clean linen room with her shoe.
Twenty minutes later I returned it to her room.