Enema of the State

I was driving down a long, winding road in the dark of night, work behind me and home somewhere ahead. The day had been an arguable success; I'd only cried alone in the cooler once, and no one saw. My foot grew heavy on the gas pedal. The road was empty but for me, and I was hungry.

My phone rang. I don't make a habit of answering it while driving, but the late hour and odd timing jarred me. It was my father.

"Have you left work?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm nearly home."

"I need something."

What he needed was an enema for Grandma, who's apparently refused to go to the bathroom for a few days and now finds that she can't. I went home (to her house, though she lives with my dad) and scoured her bathroom cabinets. Found one, brought it to her.

Things I didn't expect to be doing after work #345.