“I can wiggle into my pajama top,” says Homer. “I’m lucky, I have my elbows. Some of the boys don’t.” He puts on the pajama top. “But I can’t button ’em up,” says Homer.
“I’ll do that, Homer,” says Wilma, without hesitation. She buttons the top, and straightens his collar, smiling. Homer watches her in surprise.
Homer looks down at the bed. “This is when I know I’m helpless,” he says. “My hands are down there on the bed. I can’t put them on again without calling to somebody for help. I can’t smoke a cigarette or read a book. If that door should blow shut, I can’t open it and get out of this room.”