Anyway, my point is that Rachel was home today. She volunteered to go skating with us and acted downright pleasant all morning. So I'll admit it, I had my guard down when she approached me this afternoon.
"I have to interview an old person in my family," she announced. "It's an English assignment."
"Well," I said, thinking out loud, "you have no grandparents left, but Auntie Kate is 65. And Uncle Fred is in his eighties - you could ask him."
"Nah, I don't want to," said Rachel. "I was just thinking of asking you."
Apparently my anti-aging face cream is NOT doing its job.
So I was telling Larry about this at dinner and he said to our daughter formerly known as beloved, "Well, you could interview me then!" He was trying to be helpful, you know, and take the spotlight off my obvious decrepitude. Larry's nice that way.
"No," said Rachel. "I mean, you're busy - you have things to do."
Unlike moi, apparently. I left the room, while Rachel stammered away in the kitchen, trying to walk back that last comment.
|I'm binding off these (uncritical) beauties tonight|
You know, in case any of you wonder at my obsession with knitting, consider this: My yarn never calls me old. OR useless.