It’s a fairly balmy day in my slice of America, though I wouldn’t consider it apple pie material. The sound of construction mixes with alternative public radio music and the refreshing stench of stale cigarette smoke. It’s Friday and I’m slightly jittery, perhaps from the chai tea, or perhaps from the prospect that the weekend is upon me and there’s even the slightest chance that perhaps Tristan will be venturing to a grandparent’s house today, giving the foreign lady and I some time to be adults.
After a long weekend of sickness, it’s nice to be an adult. Particularly with ladies, foreign.