I love my job. Have I ever told you that? I really do. I know, it's ordinary and unremarkable but, after 20 years of doing it, I still giggle when I get a check.
But back to being boring. My most remarkable summer was the summer my friend, Michelle, and I went to Europe with nothing more than a passport and Eurail pass. Note I didn't include common sense.
Three months after we came home, Michelle got married. Six months later I did, too. We just haven't seen each other much besides sporadic Christmas cards.
Today Michelle, the middle age mom registered her oldest boys for summer school. I began making the appropriate forms while asking after her family. That's when it went downhill.
She made a little remark about France and I snickered. I reminded her of getting stuck in East Berlin and how she handled the gang of boys following us and cat calling on the dark streets. She called me Nance from France. I called her Michelle from hell. She reminded me I went skinny dipping for the first time in Swiss Alps. I said Frankfurt train station and we dissolved into laughter. She mentioned Reading, England and the drunk in the pub and I answered with cockroaches. For some reason, this makes us laugh harder.
We really didn't mean to start it. I had a job to do. I am really quite professional. I thought I remembered everything about that summer. Apparently, I did not. We were recalling things that we'd forgotten that could easily be used against her at a later date by her teenage sons.
One summer, a long time ago, Michelle and I were fun and remarkable. There were no other witnesses besides ourselves and the occasional thug or fellow traveler.
Sorry you missed it.
But back to being boring. My most remarkable summer was the summer my friend, Michelle, and I went to Europe with nothing more than a passport and Eurail pass. Note I didn't include common sense.
Three months after we came home, Michelle got married. Six months later I did, too. We just haven't seen each other much besides sporadic Christmas cards.
Today Michelle, the middle age mom registered her oldest boys for summer school. I began making the appropriate forms while asking after her family. That's when it went downhill.
She made a little remark about France and I snickered. I reminded her of getting stuck in East Berlin and how she handled the gang of boys following us and cat calling on the dark streets. She called me Nance from France. I called her Michelle from hell. She reminded me I went skinny dipping for the first time in Swiss Alps. I said Frankfurt train station and we dissolved into laughter. She mentioned Reading, England and the drunk in the pub and I answered with cockroaches. For some reason, this makes us laugh harder.
We really didn't mean to start it. I had a job to do. I am really quite professional. I thought I remembered everything about that summer. Apparently, I did not. We were recalling things that we'd forgotten that could easily be used against her at a later date by her teenage sons.
One summer, a long time ago, Michelle and I were fun and remarkable. There were no other witnesses besides ourselves and the occasional thug or fellow traveler.
Sorry you missed it.
I think you are fun and remarkable - it's just the gazillion kids dragging you down... at least that's my excuse (and I only have two!!)
ReplyDelete:-)
You DO know that if you went on that same trip today with you female friends, you'd have similar adventures?
ReplyDeleteIt's just the yoke of adult respectability from a husband and four kids that keeps you from going off the deep end, Missy.
We should do it. Everyone plan a trip to Zambia. We'll go on safari and see the waterfalls.
ReplyDeleteI'm serious!!
There is nothing better than reminiscing with girlfriends!
ReplyDeleteI love it! Sounds like it was a great trip... I am sure your life is just as remarkable now. I mean what is not remarkable about chasing a crazy lab all around the neighborhood?
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing boring about being surrounded by people that love you who love you back. (I've tried it the other way and it was really boring.)
ReplyDeleteThis is the exciting part.