Yes, that's what we had, and something didn't agree with me - not sure if it was the chicken or the pineapple - but here I am at 1:30 a.m. wide awake. I should be working on my novel - in fact I am going to when I'm finished this but just thought I should confess.
My daughter leaves for Bangladesh in less than two weeks and there are moments when it's all I can do to keep from wanting to tie her up and lock her in her room. I'm having a battle with fear, with all the "what-ifs" rampaging through my brain, lighting fires of panic as they go. Trust has become a big word in my vocabulary. But then I have moments when I think I'm a terrible mother for allowing her to even think of doing this. Shouldn't I be trying to keep her safe at home? But then I think of my own mother and what she said to me when I told her I was running off to the Yukon when I was about Laura's age. She said if she were my age she'd want to do the same thing. Dito. but it's so much easier to do those things yourself. Watching your kids do them is almost too hard. Trust. I keep hanging on to that word.