Something Fashionable This Way ComesI was watching the Saints play a game last week in New Orleans.
If New Orleans isn't my least favorite city, it's in the bottom three. Gloria, though, loves New Orleans. So we argue occasionally about whether New Orleans is a city rich in heritage and culture (Gloria) or a fetid cesspool with better food (me).
Gloria is watching the game with me, and the broadcast cuts to a shot of fans in the stands, several of whom are clearly so drunk they can barely function. I start laughing.
"Revelry gone awry," she said.
Eli 8.4 wanted to wear sandals to breakfast on Sunday.
"You can't wear sandals with pants," Gloria said, clearly missing that I was wearing Teva closed-toe sandals with socks and warmup pants.
"Hmm," I said, and she saw my shoes and started laughing. "Well, you can't wear open-toed sandals and pants," she said. "Besides, it's in the 30s. Your feet will be cold."
"Mom, I'll be fine," Eli said. "And my toe won't hurt." He'd stubbed his toe a few minutes earlier and there had been much wailing.
"We'll take a pair of socks," I said.
"You two are a fashion disaster," she said.
"We're not about yesterday's fashion," I said. "We're all about tomorrow's fashion."
"A tomorrow that may never come," she said.