Ah, home at last. Home to the lovely smell of a house fairly reeking with cigarette smoke. Dearest Mum pulled away so quickly from the curb after dumping self on the sidewalk that she missed self’s toes by inches. Last self heard from Dearest Mum was this hurried admonition: “Call your Tita and tell her I’m coming! I’m cooooming!”
Tita called Dearest Mum at least 10 times today, simply aching with longing for Dearest Mum’s return. Dearest Mum abruptly declared that she had to return forthwith to the Bay Area. Son must have heaved a huge sigh of relief at the news. The last 50 or 60 miles, Dearest Mum was simply beside herself, constantly urging self: “Can’t you step on it?”
“Why, where are you going?” self asked.
“Tita can’t have dinner until I get there. Can’t you step on it?”
Anyhoo, after self dragged herself in her front door, Gracie was in absolute paroxysms of delight. Hubby was shocked, shocked, at self’s too-sudden return. He was on the internet, and was also watching a football game on TV. Self dumped everything by the front door and collapsed in the bedroom. On second thought, she’s glad she went to San Luis Obispo. Thank you, hubby, for reminding self that if she hadn’t gone away with Dearest Mum, even though it was only for one night, that’s one night less that she had to inhale the stale odor of your cigarettes.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.
Kanlaon 
Joe said,
November 16, 2008 at 8:34 am
The last couple of posts were classics. Are you sure we aren’t of the same ethnicity?
anthropologist said,
November 16, 2008 at 11:55 am
Ha, ha, ha — we are, we probably are.