Mom keeps a list of Dad’s prescription medications in large-sharpie print on a white posterboard taped to a cupboard.  And underneath are the pillboxes, one for morning and one for night.  With his late-night reading, Dad often doesn’t take his a.m. medications until the p.m.  “Did you take your pills, Nelson?” Mom badgers from her recliner, knowing she has to badger because he forgets and procrastinates.  When he sheepishly shakes his head “no” she fires back, “You have to take your pills!”  Bad things can happen when the pills remain in the pillbox.  But eventually all the day’s pills get swallowed.  What a great little invention the pillbox is.  I even use one so the day’s medicines and vitamins and supplements are all ready to bottoms up.  A pillbox is especially handy when traveling, so I do not have to take a bag full of bottles, although I have learned the hard way to strap the box closed with rubber bands.  Come Sunday evening, Mom and I are filling Dad’s and my respective pillboxes.  You have to take your pills!