Last night, I was downstairs playing Quiddler with grandma and Emily. The game is a lot like scrabble, and each player gets 5 cards with letters on them and has to try and make a word.
When grandma’s turn came, she stared at her cards for a while. Finally, she said, “I think when we were at the florist today, she said something.”
“Really?” I asked, worried that she’d say the florist had told her the hosta were poisonous, or that the playing cards had been treated with arsenic.
“Yes,” she said. “I think she showed me a plant, and its name was Q-U-O-E-G.”

Last night, I was playing Quiddler with grandma and her caregiver Emily. The game is a lot like scrabble: Each player gets 5 cards with letters on them and has to try and make a word.

When grandma’s turn came, she stared at her cards for a while, looking increasingly upset. Finally, she said, “I think when we were at the florist today, she said something.”

“Really?” I asked, worried that she’d say the florist had told her the hosta were poisonous, or that the playing cards had been treated with arsenic.

“Yes,” she said. “I think she showed me a plant, and its name was Q-U-O-E-G.”