Beware of the Tiki curse
There comes a time in your life when your parents stop wondering where you are and you start wondering where they are. That's happened to me.
Although my dad does call periodically to make sure I haven't fallen down the stairs and the cats are using me as a buffet, for the most part, we don't see each other much--even though we live about a mile apart. Last year my dad bought a vacation house in Colorado so he and my stepmother jet back and forth frequently. I don't really keep a schedule on their comings and goings. I just see pictures later and go "oh, you were gone?".
So imagine my surpise when I get an email from dad saying "we finally made it". We finally made it where? Colorado? First in line at a Buffett concert? No, Hawaii. I did know that, I swear I did. Anyway, they sent some really beautiful pics of them on the black sand beach, eating breakfast on the lanai, standing under the requisite palm tree. Yeah, it really is pretty but I always hum the theme to the Brady Bunch when I see pics of Hawaii. At least that's what I did the first time I got off the plane in Honolulu.
Anyway, I've been trying to get my parents to Hawaii for 10 years (I used to go out there frequently for work--yeah, it was brutal). I'm glad they did finally make it and I hope they have a fine time.
Now if I could just get them to go to Rome.
Although my dad does call periodically to make sure I haven't fallen down the stairs and the cats are using me as a buffet, for the most part, we don't see each other much--even though we live about a mile apart. Last year my dad bought a vacation house in Colorado so he and my stepmother jet back and forth frequently. I don't really keep a schedule on their comings and goings. I just see pictures later and go "oh, you were gone?".
So imagine my surpise when I get an email from dad saying "we finally made it". We finally made it where? Colorado? First in line at a Buffett concert? No, Hawaii. I did know that, I swear I did. Anyway, they sent some really beautiful pics of them on the black sand beach, eating breakfast on the lanai, standing under the requisite palm tree. Yeah, it really is pretty but I always hum the theme to the Brady Bunch when I see pics of Hawaii. At least that's what I did the first time I got off the plane in Honolulu.
Anyway, I've been trying to get my parents to Hawaii for 10 years (I used to go out there frequently for work--yeah, it was brutal). I'm glad they did finally make it and I hope they have a fine time.
Now if I could just get them to go to Rome.