Shakespeare Was a Liar

Parting is not sweet sorrow. It's lousy and I hate it.

Dropped my sister off at the airport early this afternoon, saying good-bye at the counter. It didn't hit the toddler until we were heading for the elevator that we were leaving her aunt behind.

There wasn't the hysteria I expected. Instead she just kept plaintively asking, "Bucket? Bucket!" She didn't stop until we were halfway through the two hour drive home.

Incidentally, Bucket is not my sister's name. My parents were very much into odd and unusual names (I'll have to tell you the story some time of how they messed up with my name) but even they had limits. We don't know where Bucket came from. Mysterious but sweet, that's my little one!

The sister has worked it out so that she will be back in about a month. This is the first time she's ever taken a long car trip, so she's both scared and excited. Our parents are having fits. They didn't want her to fly back, just stay here so she doesn't do the road trip. Unfortunately for them, she has a car and a car payment back there and she really didn't feel like paying for a car she isn't using. Not to mention she'd like to leave her current job, such as it is, on good terms.

News Flash! As of right this minute the baby has become mobile. She just flipped onto her tummy and started scooching around the living room floor. Uh-oh. Heading for the newspaper, too. Bye!