|"I thought vespa was a type of ice cream..."|
I have a good friend whose holidays feature castles, temples, and Michelin-starred restaurants (hi LeeAnn). My holidays, on the other hand, mainly feature me drinking coffee in my mom's kitchen. Maybe I should get a tour guide. Or only travel with LeeAnn. But the truth is I really like hanging out in my mom's kitchen. It's where I spent most of my time when I was little or when I was home from college. Writing essays on the kitchen table, listening to the piano wafting in from the living room, marvelling at my brother Stephen's crushing logic on why he should own a vespa. The only difference is that in those days, my two great aunts Josie and Milly, were also in that kitchen. Hence, the freshly baked apple pie, endless cups of coffee, and conversations littered with: "What'd she say?" "Roosevelt was a great president," and "Was this lunch or dinner?"
Now it's my own kids hanging out in my Mom's kitchen listening to stories about the good old days. Sampling her risotto, checking expiration dates on Easter eggs (it's July, Mom), and watching her extensive classic film collection. An excellent way to get over jetlag, but I do wonder what effect back to back Audrey Hepburn films might have on them. As long as it doesn't result in Eliot wanting to shop only at Tiffany's or in Alexander asking for a vespa, I look forward to my yearly rendez-vous with Holly Golightly.