TYPHOON BUFFOON
OR KNOW-IT-ALL MOM?
I asked Eden, our college-aged daughter, if she would please open the boxes of the hurricane glass centerpieces I ordered for her eldest sister's upcoming wedding, and check the glass for cracks and crookedness while there's still time to exchange them.
On my way out the door on errands, I hurriedly told her that we got two sizes, so some boxes will have two, and some will have just one.
Now imagine the pages of the calendar flying off. I completely forgot about the assigned task.
Days later, we were lounging at the kitchen table, and out of the clear blue sky, she asked:
"Mom, how many hurricanes are there?"
Wish I had a photo of my face. I thought she meant great, big ocean storms. I thought she was asking me how many of them there have ever been, throughout the world, for as long as time, which, of course, I hadn't the slightest molecule of an idea how many.
Gee! My daughter thinks I'm THAT smart! That's a switch!
But nooooooo. She didn't mean storms. She meant that she hadn't yet scrutinized those hurricane-glass centerpieces downstairs and was wondering if the task was going to cut into her busy schedule of lounging, snacking and watching T . . . I mean, if she could fit it in around all her intensive studying for finals.
THAT's all.
Come to think of it, I didn't remember how many of the centerpieces we had, either, but at least I think my guess could come a lot closer.
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