When we were kids, my sister and I dreaded our annual family car trips to Toronto. It was a roughly 350 miles trek. Six and half hours, of tedium, occasional nausea, and egg salad sandwiches with overly large chunks of raw white onion that my mom would prepare for the ride.
Whenever my sister and I would complain my father would admonish us by reminding us why we were going. “It’s your grandmother’s birthday. She turns 98 this year. This may be the last time you see her.”
And “It’s your grandmother’s birthday. She turns 99 this year. This could be her last one. ” And “Your grandmother turns 100 this year and this is probably the last birthday she’ll celebrate.”
My grandmother lived to 112. That was a lot of egg salad sandwiches.
Today’s Yes/No….
Happy Belated Birthday, Ponytail!
Tammy – Akemi shares your disdain for cilantro.
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