The Mysterious East

Herself and I traveled to suburban DC to help our youngest move into her new condomaximum in Falls Church.  The weather was blustery -"bracing" as one of her new building-mates put it.  It's just the place a dad wants for his little girl, roomy yet cozy with a good sized deck; three floors above ground so the risk of break-in is virtually nil.  The building is a ten-year-old brick construction with nice wide hallways and well manicured grounds.  She has secured, monitored parking.  Really a nice place.

First assignment was to repaint the larger of the two bathrooms.  I was tasked with applying both coats of primer and painting the ceiling while them two took off for a fun day of whatever wimmens does when they say they're "shopping."  We had dinner at a strict Muslim restaurant that night, and the cuisine and service were regrettable.  Luckily we had Molly's pal along to supply some much-needed charm at that point in the day.

The drunken salivating oafs who moved some but not all of M's stuff were really the only bad part of the trip.  Two disgusting degenerates who harrassed M for her phone number, for a date, for who knows what she didn't tell me before she got them out of her apartment.  They ended up breaking at least two pieces of her furniture before we were rid of them.

One of the stranger phase changes of the trip was the night M was bringing us back to our hotel, and she and her mother were at each other just like the old days.  Each thrust parried expertly with a stilleto-like rejoinder.  I wisely kept mine own company, huddled in the miniscule back seat of the Civic.  The picking, sniping and bickering lasted up the stairs and down the hallway to our rooms, where, once we were ensconced, M calmly, professionally and expertly got on the phone and internet and directed an international phone conference with the people on her "team" in India.  The women in my life are amazing.