I'm trying to figure out if I want to talk about the Black Priest from Brussels with two deaf sisters who just happened to sit next to Luca and me at dinner last night to talk about how the high rate of divorce and working mothers has led to the destruction of today's children or the guy who let me through the check-out line to purchase my pads even though he had already closed the line. When I told him he was such a sensitive guy and that this was truly an E*M*E*R*G*E*N*C*Y situation, he called me a flirt and smiled. Then he handed me a bag for my pads and I ran out of the supermarket to the nearest bathroom. Always happens like that...go figure.
Night Night from Tuscany.
1 comment:
You? A flirt? He has some nerve...oh, right...been there, done that!
Really loved your last post too. Didn't get there in time to comment on it. What a beautiful statement. It is very appropriate for many of us.
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