We’re on our way to Florida for the month of June.
My sister Jan is with child YAY!! And not realizing that after 5 years of trying, it'll happen when it happens, booked her entire summer solid. She makes weding cakes. Big ones.
I’ll be working for her (notice how I say for since I’ve already been warned that I will be a slave girl) while the students work on their language skills.
By golly – if we don’t get back with them speaking Spanish like natives, it’ll be a miracle!
So I’m packing my suitcases and added a few balls of sock yarn in there against Frick’s advise.
She says, “Mommy, I really don’t think you should pack yarn since you know Abuelita doesn’t like it when you knit.”
That would be when I put the ball of Step in as well.
The great thing about visiting the ‘rents in FL is that they firmly believe that I am 12.
Despite the fact that:
A –
I am 38
B-
I have had a license to operate a motor vehicle since I was 17
C-
I am married
And
D-
I have 2 children
Nothing will ever make them change their minds.
Which means that I’m not allowed to:
A – talk on the phone (with anyone other than my husband) for more than 10 minutes.
B - go anywhere w/o parental permission and/or supervision
C – spend any money w/o spousal permission
D- do anything that does not involve my children or work (i.e.: knitting, reading...)
It’s gonna be a loooooooooong month…
Thursday, May 31
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2 comments:
OOOOOO, I have an idea. Pretend I'm Big Head when I call and we can talk for 10 minutes a day. It'll be easy. Just always sound disgusted and hang up on me when your done!
Hi Large Marge
A LITTLE ray of hope for you:
The being treated like you're a kid thing -- it will ease up when you turn 60.
hang in there!
Judith
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