For someone shuffled off to bedpan duty, Dee was in a remarkably good mood. And her good mood seemed to improve the moods of most of the old folks she helped. She sang to them, ridiculous songs she'd learned as a child. It struck her as remarkably intriguing that these old people could hum along to most of the songs she picked.
"Good voice, honey," one of the old ladies said sweetly. "You should write music. It'd be good." Then, her nose wrinkled up. "Well... by good, I mean..."
Dee laughed. "You mean a song in txt-speak can only be mediocre. At best. I hear you. And I agree."
The old woman blinked. "With a word like 'mediocre' in your repertoire, I think you may do just fine."
"Not for my generation," Dee replied, smiling faintly. "There. You're all set for a while now."
"Thank you, dear," the woman said. "Have a good day."
And as Dee headed out the door, she heard the woman mutter, "Precious few of them left..."
Shrugging it off, Dee went looking for the rest of the kids. She found a few of them in the kitchen.
"Hey all," she said cheerily. "How's first day?"