Dad is having physical therapy every day at our home in order to get his strength back after his recent hospitalization.

His PT is a precious girl named Cherie, who is also dementia trained so she is perfect for my Dad.

She came over yesterday and asked Dad if he would please put on his tennis shoes.

Dad immediately whispered in my ear, "I'm not really feeling up to playing tennis.  Do I even have a tennis racket?"

"No, Dad."  I replied.  "Tennis shoes are another word for sneakers."

"That makes no sense to me." He said, shaking his head.

I suppose it is a little odd.  I never gave it much thought before.  That Alzheimer's brain is AMAZING!