Today, I luxuriate in the lower left-hand corner of the country, in a snug little beach apartment located above a hamburger stand. It is a summer outing with my husband and father, replete with cocktails, corndogs, jigsaw puzzles, and very loud television watching.
Yesterday, my sister Liz came out to visit, joined by my cousin Carrie. We got on the topic of recalcitrant youth, how to discipline them, and sins committed in our teens. I have shamefully few.
This led Liz to recount an incident in which she had been out late carousing, and the next morning slept in, all the while unaware that the rather large bottle of vodka that had fueled the prior evening's festivities had been discovered by my parents.
She staggered out to the kitchen to the vision of my brother, Mike, who was over 21. In his hand was a very large Bloody Mary--garnished with a large sprig of celery--concocted from the illicit vodka.
"SUCKER!" was the greeting.
In the Peterson household, you snooze, you lose.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
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