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Grandpa has been staying with us since Wednesday, and will be for the next 10 days.
My grandpa never worked a day in his life, so, suffice to say he's been rather spoilt.
By Grandma, by his children.
He has been used to having servants at his beck and call and a wife that works to support the family.
I respect my grandpa a great deal, a highly educated man with impeccable manners.
A true gentleman.
I don't mind having to look after him even though I'm mugging for the exams.
I don't mind going to to buy his lunch, have to prepare his medication, supporting him to the dining table or toilet.
It's really ok, I'm happy to.
But, I can't get used to the musky smell that old people have.
I couldn't adjust to it during my stint in Little Sisters of the Poor and I still can't now.

Why is that?
That everytime I get a whiff, I want to hurl.
It doesn't mean I love him any less, it's...it's just the smell.