Today began well, dad got up, showered and dressed all by 9.00 am - Bliss.

When he returned at 4.00 he seemed quite bright but there was bit of a pong. I ignored it and hoped the carer would arrive to change his pad, soon...

"When are we going to the cinema" he said.

"I didn't know we were" I replied.

"Well I don't mind if we do or don't"

"OK"

The care office rang, not coming!

I could have said "shit" but it didn't seem appropriate.

Dad got up and wandered towards the downstairs loo. I asked him to take off his pad if it was dirty and leave it in the loo for me to clear away.

OK he said. I was encouraged, we were having a sensible conversation and he was understanding the situation.

OK, I asked when he came out. No, not really he replied.

"Where is your pad?" I asked,

"In there" he waved vaguely towards the loo.

"You haven't put it down the loo, have you?"

He was indignant at this slur on his capabilities

"Are you clean?" I asked innocently.

"Not really".

I asked him to go upstairs and use the moist wipes specifically for this purpose. He came downstairs with a towel round his middle, unclean I sensed.

Half an hour later he is still there and refusing to move. There is an old poem about Sussex people who won't be druv and my dad is a perfect example of that mentality.

The nappy is missing, it could be anywhere. I retired to my bedroom defeated. I'll wait for M to come home and deal with it.