Well, Daughter checked on flights, I guess in late spring, and, I don't know what she was looking at, but she said the tickets were a bazillion dollars each. So Hercules decided no, they couldn't afford it. Badda boom. End of story.
When I asked her a few weeks ago when they were planning to go and she told me they weren't going, and why, I was devastated. I hadn't realized until then that I was so excited about the idea, too. I haven't been keeping in touch (no reason, I'm just a clod), and hadn't seen sweet Sister in years, and the thought of my daughter and Nugget visiting thrilled me in some way I can't explain.
I was crushed.
So, I went online and checked on tickets myself. Maybe the drop in gas prices has something to do with it, but all the flights were a hair over $200. So I told her pish on Hercules -- I'll pay for Daughter and Nugget to go. I'll even pay for a rental car.
Well, with that news, Hercules decided he'd go, too. (I'm not paying for his ticket. Pish on him. I'm betting he's all excited about geocaching opportunities, not about Daughter seeing her aunt and Nugget meeting her great-aunt. Pish on him!)
They leave next Thursday. I'll drive them to the Newark airport and pick them up after.
A random reference to TMI, and what it used to mean.
Things have changed. In 1975 when I was pregnant with Daughter, proper maternity clothes were circus tents. You weren't supposed to even hint at an outline, like you were supposed to pretend it was a secret or something. I wore the proper tents to the office, but rebelled outside work. With the hippie influence, flower power, Woodstock, things were changing.
I had found a T-shirt with BABY in big letters across the bust, and a wide arrow pointing down, and it wasn't even a tent. It hugged my belly. I loved that thing and wore it everywhere. At that time and place, it was original, unique.
And everywhere I went, I got frowns, sneers, and whispers behind hands from women, and averted eyes from men. The shirt was absolutely disgusting to many, and they let me know. This was, by the way, in the mid-west. I suspect that on either coast, folks may have found it more amusing. But St. Louis was definitely NOT amused!
I asked a friend why there was such a strong response, and she said it was because the shirt was saying that I'd had sex.
Um, yeah, all pregnant women had. Just being pregnant says that. Besides, I'm married, so it's ok, isn't it?
Well, yeah, it's ok, but you're not supposed to talk about it, she said. You're supposed to hide it. That shirt not only literally points out that you've had sex, and points out where, but it BRAGS about it. So when people see that, it makes them think about sex, and that disgusts them.
Forty years later, I wonder what they'd think of pregnant women in bikinis?