Your father is on a camel
Two weeks ago today, my sister became a Mrs.
Isn’t she beautiful? It’s aggravating how beautiful she is. I got NONE of these genes, including “how to gracefully descend a curved staircase.” Although I did it with a drink in my hand so… we all have our special gifts.
Now she, my new brother-in-law Eldad, my niece, my parents and my aunt and uncle are in Israel (where Eldad’s mother is from and where his parents currently reside). I fully expect the following:
– That somewhere in the Holy Land, my mother is walking around with that handheld fan that haunted us all during The Menopause Years
– That either my niece, quite used to the comforts of air conditioning and the Disney Channel, will either fall in love with traveling or never leave the country ever again
– More texts like the one I got this morning: “It’s 100+ degrees here. Your father is on a camel.”
– After two weeks of visiting “Jesus Was Here” signs, my mother will come home and force us all to go back to church (some church, any church) even though for most of us it’s been years. And I’ll wish she’d gone to Comic-Con instead, had a divine awakening THERE and brought me back armfuls of comic books and Firefly DVDs.
Thank you to everyone who posted the link to Kate’s site and/or made a donation. I adore you and your amazing generosity, especially my favoritest celebrity blogger who found time from her busy schedule of re-enacting scenes from ET in her mold-infested home to read Kate’s blog and comment and post about it on Twitter. If you listen carefully, you can hear her gagging in Texas over the phrase “celebrity blogger.”
(If you have done nothing, we will not speak of it but know that I am silently judging you.)