Mom is going in for routine knee replacement surgery (I love how they call it “routine.” How many knees does one routinely get replaced anyway?) She’ll be in the hospital for three days according to the schedule. She’s starting to think about what to wear. Huh?

Yes, she called me yesterday. “I bought a new nightgown and a new robe for the hospital stay. I needed a thicker robe so I don’t get cold. They said to wear loose pants so I’ve narrowed it down to four pair.”

“Just pick whichever one is most comfortable,” I advised.

Long pause where it is obvious the mother/daughter mind-meld failed. Finally she says, “No, I’m taking all four! The one pair is–”

“Mom! You’re not going on a cruise, you’re going to be in the hospital! You don’t even need a nightgown! Just take a pair of sweatpants and a shirt and be done with it!”

Another mind-meld failure.

“They did advise sweatpants because I have to do four hours of physical therapy each day and I need loose pants. None of mine are all that loose. I better buy sweatpants. Where do you buy sweatpants?”

Pause to contemplate a generational gap that spans the great distance between a woman who still wears dresses to church every Sunday and a daughter who owns more sweatpants than any other clothing item except socks.

“Wal-mart,” I finally gasp out. “Or any sports store. They have ones that zip off down the sides that are very easy to get on and off. Or ones where just the leg zips off from just above the knee–so you could have one pant leg on and one off if you needed to. But get ones with pockets. You won’t have a purse with all that stuff you carry around and I know you’ll want your cell phone with you all the time.”

“I wonder if the Wal-Mart here has sweatpants? I’ve never seen them.”

Daughter gets dizzy so she sits down. “They have sweatpants. And make sure you take a very warm top with long sleeves. The hospital will be cold. You should probably take your electric lap blanket.”

“Oh, I won’t need a blanket. I can just ask for more blankets.”

“Uh-huh. You know they might not be that fast about answering the call button. This isn’t a cruise. They might not be all that interested when you buzz and ask for the seventh extra blanket.”

“It’ll be fine. Do you think I should take my good slippers or just the slip-ons? Maybe I’ll take both.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’m going to be much help here.”

I’m planning on doing a bit of shopping before this surgery. I know where to buy sweatpants, nice thick socks, a good heavy flannel shirt, snacks that include survival packs of cheese and crackers and chocolate, and a backpack to carry it all in. Meanwhile, I hope the hospital is ready for Mom. I’m worried someone is going to disable that call bell…