Missin' You

Things My Parents' Europe Trip Taught Me:

1) My mother's ability to worry is hereditary.

2) Said worrying is caused by lapses of communication, and manifests itself through many remarkable feats of imagination, all of which end with the travelers dead.

3) If any of said scenarios should come to pass, I would be my brother's legal guardian for the next 6 weeks.

4) If I did become my brother's legal guardian, chances are my brother would never know it because I don't see or hear from my brother for months at a time. In other words, in a race between him finding and charging his cell phone and the next six weeks, bet on the six weeks.

5) I hate making life-changing decisions without my parents to advise me.

6) Vicarious living can happen from parents for child, not just child for parents.

7) I'm really, really glad my parents got to run away from their workaholic tendencies for a while.

Here's a picture of the two of them in a hotel mirror in Istanbul. And, see? I have no need to worry - they're protected by the evil eyes!


Just to prove the lapses of communication and the subsequent worrying are indeed hereditary, I am going to post here an email I got from my parents when Emily and I backpacked Europe back in 2000. This was about 3 days into the trip, and we were still in our first stop - visiting Mercedes in England.

Date: Sat, 10 Jun 2000 12:33:27 -0600
From: wsara
To: chitarita
Subject: Worries

Dear Amanda,

Dad: No news from Amanda?
Mom: Nope.
Dad: Not even email?
Mom: Not even.
Dad: Postcard?
Mom: Nyet.
Dad: Smoke signals?
Mom: Nay.
Dad: Telepathy?
Mom: Non.
Dad: Probably busy.
Mom: Probably kidnapped
Dad: Probably terrorists.
Mom: Not mentioned on BBC.
Dad: Notice you watch BBC every night lately.
Mom: Thought terrorists.
Dad: Sold into slavery?
Mom: Worse.
Dad: Not that?
Mom: Could be.
Dad: Converted?
Mom: It's happened before.
Dad: Like Bill Bryson.
Mom: Anglophilia.
Dad: For shame.
Mom: Affecting the accent.
Dad: Following cricket.
Mom: Driving on the left side of the road.
Dad: Enjoying boiled cabbage and potatoes.
Mom: The full monty.
Dad: I hear there's hope.
Mom: A cure?
Dad: Just over the Channel.
Mom: Of course
Mom and Dad together in Chorus: La France!

Please write.

Love, Mums and Pops.