Why is it when you try to embrace the empty nest, the helicopters appear instead? Why is it, indeed, any time you try and take a vacash–the world erupts? You and your husband were just in Paris in order to hunker down in musees, window shop, eat steak frites and sip Meursault. Tres relaxing and romantique, oui?
Oui, until…well, here are the various vacation texts and messages you have had rude awakenings to, received from family and offspring, over the past years:
2004. Mom, I knew you’d hear about it in the news (when they mention the news it’s curtains) but our neighborhood flooded and we can’t get out. A helicopter took a picture of our babysitter paddling a canoe.
2006. Mom, I know you’ve probably already heard about it on the news (even worse, because you haven’t). A Middle-Eastern student drove a Jeep into the quad and tried to run over people.
2011. Mom, I know you’d hear about it in the news. (!#$?!) We actually had an earthquake here–first one since 1897–but I’m fine.
2012. Sis–hope your kids are okay. I heard about the shooting–how horrible.
2012. Mom, please don’t worry, but there’s a hurricane headed here, but I’m fine.
And the most heinous ever, you can’t even put into print. March 5, 2008. In memory of EMC.
You swore off watching CNN while on vacash. Now you hardly daren’t.
Can you trust the world to take care of itself, in your absence?
Can’t the world behave itself for four days? Much less, five minutes?
Your heart goes out to the victims of Sandy.