Thanks for being my first non-family visitor to test out the guest room! I’m glad it was during the ramp-up to Mardi Gras, but sorry there was still snow and ice all over. (Especially sorry for the Missouri drivers and the shards of ice flying off their cars.)
Having you in town was a great excuse to visit the Gateway Arch — the iconic monument I hadn’t explored since moving here.
Tiny Terror that you are, we had to explore my neighborhood bar too.
And also my neighbor’s ice-cream shop.
And Taste of Soulard — my neighborhood’s neighbor.
I enjoyed meeting your cousin Claire!
That’s where we saw interesting people like this guy.
I wonder if he knows that portable Bluetooth speakers exist.
And a goat who is the GOAT.
And racing weiners.
I promise a more comfortable sleeper sofa the next time you visit. And that I will have become a regular, “Cheers” style at the local bar.
Love and kisses!
Your fren, Beth
P.S. Thanks for the hostess gift. I wouldn’t call me “sweet” by any stretch of the imagination, but I appreciate it.
We did not start off on the right foot. And then I didn’t actually meet you for weeks after I moved in. When I did, it consisted of you hollering “Hello, I’m your neighbor!” from your car.
That was fine. I had resigned myself to not really having a relationship with you. Plus, Kate on the other side has been PLENTY of neighbor for me.
But then I happened to come in the front door with some groceries, as opposed to the back. And you appeared on your front porch at the same time. You wanted to warn me about porch pirates, and let me know you put a package of mine in the side yard.
Me: Thank you for that. This move has been hard enough without people stealing packages too.
We looked at each other for a few beats. Blinked.
You: For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that.
And that’s all it took. All I needed for everything to be OK.
As it turns out, we had both asked our real-estate agents if we could have a conversation just ourselves. We were denied. By your agent.
You: I really think we could have worked it out if we could have just talked to each other.
We ended up spending about 30 minutes on our porches chatting. And then set up brunch, where we talked for nearly two hours.
Thanks so much for inviting me on your trip to Costa Rica with Sister Kara, and your friends Sharon and Brad (aka Bardo). Though you, Kara and Aunt Beth visited me in Atlanta for Mother’s Day last year, this is our first trip together.
I admit that I was a little sad to miss the huge winter storm in St. Louis (it would have been my first). Then I saw these stats: Missouri State Highway Patrol responded to 1,578 stranded drivers and 556 crashes.
Now, my Southern ass wouldn’t have been driving around in that. But Brother Lodell sent video of his freshly shoveled driveway re-covered with another five or six inches of snow.
I don’t have a snow shovel.
So.
It’s best we are here.
No snow. Ever.
And Juancho’s Rancho via Airbnb doesn’t suck either.
Except for the couch. The couch sucks. The couch sucks HARD because it IS hard.
WTF, Juancho?! This is like a park bench!
We had to get a cushion for this monstrosity.
It was nice to meet Juancho. He’s MUCH YOUNGER than any of us expected. A bit of a hottie too. He suggested we go into Jaco for dinner, but you weren’t having it.
You: Not tonight, Juancho. Me (suggestively): Not tonight, Juancho. Kara: Said no one ever.
Kara and I went to bed laughing most nights. Why? Because of stuff like this (so stupid):
The way of life here is much slower than anything American. While waiting for breakfast to be served, Brad and I had plenty of time to notice our surroundings.
Braclets AND necklesses? Wow.
And debate the differences among words.
Por ejemplo: Homeless=circumstantial, not a choice Hobo=homeless with a goal Bum=homeless without a goal
Thank you for letting Kara and me retire to the AC and the dark like mole creatures when we were done peopling for a while.
And there was much rejoicing on the last day when I finally saw a monkey.
Infinite sadness in those eyes. Probably because there’s no monkey dental plan.
Anyway, it was great. Thanks again for the invitation. Let’s do it again next year!
I was so happy to see you and your brother this weekend. Gideon is pubescing HARD, so I didn’t see him much. You, though? Plenty of contact. The whole “Peacemaker” series so far, as one gauge of time.
(Five stars. Would recommend. Would recommend for the awkward dance routine intro alone.)
I loved spending time with you.
I do want to say I’m having a really hard time keeping my mouth shut about your hair.
It’s a tension as old as time: Parents disapproving of hairstyles. Or lack thereof.
But look:
What animal died on your head, Dominic? And can I taxidermy it instead?
I know, I know: A girl (or maybe two) said it looked good.
And here we are.
I don’t know why you care what a girl says. You clearly aren’t interested in dating at the moment.
I mean, you quickly shut one girl down about prom. Full stop.
Poor thing. You don’t even have her saved as a contact in your phone!
(Also, what the heck, Dominic?!?)
Are you sure you’re MY son?
But you know, I love that you and your friends are into something so wholesome. Spider-Man fandom is infinitely preferable to any typical teenage interest.
I’m a fan. (Not of Spider-Man — please* — but of you and your friends.)
I love you, and I’ll see you soon. Mama
*Look. Listen. He’s one of my least favorite characters in the Marvel universe. Give me Tony Stark, Black Widow or Thor any day! Spider-Man is … fine.
Observe and report 