for international women's day
It pleases me that it is both (a) International Women's Day and (b) Tuesday, which is the night every week when the women's league curls at my club. :-) For International Women's Day, I will retell this story:
One of my college roommates, L, has three children - two girls and a boy. This new year's, I was visiting her family and we went one night to her parents' house, so that she and I could go to the hockey game with her dad and (mainly) so she could drive her folks to the airport early in the morning, where they were going to visit his mother, who was ill. L returned from the airport and went back to sleep, allowing her older daughter to sit in the bed with her and watch TV with headphones. The boy was still zonked out. So when the younger daughter (the middle child) woke up, I went to get her so she wouldn't wake the whole house calling for her grandmother, who was of course not there.
L's mother - a brilliant, formidable, tremendously professional woman - has an impressive collection of nutcrackers, which spend December lined up shoulder to shoulder across the top of the entertainment center. She's going to have to find someplace else to put them, soon; they're two deep at the edges and if she adds any more you won't be able to see them. Anyway, Middle Child J, who is three and a half, and I were sitting quietly in the living room, and talking about her sister and brother and Christmas presents and how she's not allowed to play with the nutcrackers, and then she looks at the nutcrackers for a minute and tilts her head to one side and says, "Where are all the girls?"
This entry was originally posted at http://fox.dreamwidth.org/1218075.html. Comments are closed here; it's not that I don't trust you, you understand, but just now I'm a little suspicious of LJ. So until there is a way for me to categorically bar even accidental crossposting of any comments here to any Facebook or Twitter anywhere, please comment at Dreamwidth using OpenID.
One of my college roommates, L, has three children - two girls and a boy. This new year's, I was visiting her family and we went one night to her parents' house, so that she and I could go to the hockey game with her dad and (mainly) so she could drive her folks to the airport early in the morning, where they were going to visit his mother, who was ill. L returned from the airport and went back to sleep, allowing her older daughter to sit in the bed with her and watch TV with headphones. The boy was still zonked out. So when the younger daughter (the middle child) woke up, I went to get her so she wouldn't wake the whole house calling for her grandmother, who was of course not there.
L's mother - a brilliant, formidable, tremendously professional woman - has an impressive collection of nutcrackers, which spend December lined up shoulder to shoulder across the top of the entertainment center. She's going to have to find someplace else to put them, soon; they're two deep at the edges and if she adds any more you won't be able to see them. Anyway, Middle Child J, who is three and a half, and I were sitting quietly in the living room, and talking about her sister and brother and Christmas presents and how she's not allowed to play with the nutcrackers, and then she looks at the nutcrackers for a minute and tilts her head to one side and says, "Where are all the girls?"
This entry was originally posted at http://fox.dreamwidth.org/1218075.html. Comments are closed here; it's not that I don't trust you, you understand, but just now I'm a little suspicious of LJ. So until there is a way for me to categorically bar even accidental crossposting of any comments here to any Facebook or Twitter anywhere, please comment at Dreamwidth using OpenID.