We've been going there nightly (it's right down the street from us) with the boyz to visit their Grandma as she gets back on her feet.
Each and every time we step off the elevator onto the 2nd floor, all I can think of is that movie Awakenings, especially the scene where the person in the wheelchair raises their arm in a claw and catches the ball. Hubby, on the other hand, can always be faintly heard muttering, "Jeez, it's like night of the living dead in here."
There is usually a gaggle of 6-10 wheelchair-bound elderly congregated in the hallway. I always make a point to smile (brightly) and say hi (loudly) as their eyes twinkle at the sight of the scampering boyz, who are completely oblivious to the attention as they jostle and shove to be the first to find and then enter Grandma's room. (Why, oh why, is everything a competition?)
There is one frail woman in particular with red-rimmed eyes and sparse, curly white hair, always adorned in a blue bathrobe, whom Baby has taken quite a liking to. Each time he spies her, he struts right up to the front of her wheelchair, and as she reaches her arms toward him, Baby briskly slaps her a high-five. Every time.
And every time, this woman acts soooooo suprised (and elated) that Baby has been so bold. Sadly, I think she really doesn't remember him each time. But I'm glad she gets such a kick and derives such joy from my 2 year old charmer.