Guys, I’d love to stay and chat, but my Mom’s in town.
Like, staying at my house, cooking my meals, folding my laundry, kicking me out of my own kitchen in town.
“Buh bye, Keely…”
So far, we’ve:
…Asked the man at the meat counter how to cook a certain item- except in my atrocious Spanish I definitely asked him how to “kitchen” it. (He didn’t know.)
…Drank bourbon. (Last night, people, last night.)
…Fell asleep in front of Antiques Roadshow. (P.J. was there, too.)
…Told (and heard) amazing stories about my Dad (and a few other people).
…And eaten two amazing meals. (Plus, someone is prepping someone else’s favorite dinner for tonight.)
Amidst all of these warm n’ fuzzies, I asked my mother what her favorite part of the trip- so far- was. She recounted a downright heartwarming tale of how she had a bourbon on the plane. Thanks, Mom.
(I’ll just go back outside, now.)
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