Sunday, November 12, 2006
Who's your daddy?
Dear Marc, how are you? It's Father's day in Sweden. We celebrated by letting the father sleep in, then treat himself to bacon, eggs and tea, while the mother had chocolate cake and coffee and love poems.
I'm about to celebrate my own father too. Here he is, where he belongs, in the kitchen. He cooks for my mom every day, which is good. My mom has her own thinking when it comes to cooking. (and yes, those are trays of mushrooms drying in the book shelf, we're stocking up for the long winter).
We found these delicacies outside my parents house. They had my mom's name written all over them. You never know with her, what's the plan? She keeps life exciting for all of us. I asked dad about mom's bananas. He said "I have no idea. But I won't stop her." To her defense, she makes the best jams and chocolate desserts you've ever had. And she's brilliant.
I don't know what the father of your life wants for his big day. Perhaps a new t-shirt?
Joel's cranky. Got to go.