Yo Momma!

With one week left of "summer vacation", I was walking over to C.I.A. to drop off the receipt for Grey's tuition.  It took me three hours to pay the 2 grand deposit due to crappy traffic and because the line I waited in - for an hour - at the Winward Islands Bank was for island business owners, not mom's depositing kids tuition in the business account.  Even though I explained to the teller the school itself was a business, I wasn't the owner or an employee of said business. I resigned the conversation at that point and had moved over to the "Personal Transactions" line to wait. An hour. Again.

I'd had another call with Doc.Ginny, so I was trying to see things from a different perspective during the short walk from Rainbow to C.I.A. In blistering heat.  With blood-thirsty mosquitoes. OK, so my perspective was still a bit skewed but I recognized it as such. Wasn't that part of the process?

Stopping in front of the soon-to-be Cupecoy Plaza I looked over the concrete, re bar, chickens and littered trash wondering when this shopping depot would open. Probably not during my stay on the island, meaning there was no Dunkin' Donuts in my immediate future. Hmm, new perspective wasn't so hard. I accepted there would be no convenience to be had in this area and moved along on my walk.  My next stop was in front of B.B.'s, the local watering hole and home to AUC masses immediately following Block Exams.  Shaded in palm trees it looked welcoming and the 2 buck beers proved as much. But, I knew that if you spent $20 you'd be blitzed enough to order food in turn leaving B.B.'s with E.coli, salmonella and/or a pinch of botulism. 

I kept walking past B.B.'s, Fat Tony's open air eatery and stopped in the Campus Village parking lot because I'd lost my flip flop. After reading about hepatitis and suffering through my imagination induced anxiety, I wasn't walking any place sans shoes.  I hopped back toward my lost flopper and overheard a conversation between a group of students at the entrance to Sunset Village.

"No. Seriously. What do I get my mom? Like," girl in the AUC sweatshirt was asking, "what can I order? My mom's 45th is this Friday."  Her girlfriends eyes bugged out and mouth dropped open, but she didn't have an answer.

"45?!?" Shouted scrub wearing, water bottle swinging dude next to her.  "No clue.  Want me to call my mom and ask?"

My first thought: why the hell is this chic wearing a sweatshirt? It's over 85 outside and I'd been covered in a sheen of sweat as soon as I'd closed my front door.  Second thought: can I punch this asshat right now for shouting the number 45 like it was a death sentence?  Of course, I'd  probably break all of the bones in my hand if I punched him because of my age-induced osteoporosis.

I stood rooted in shock and scrutinized these kids. Was it possible Jameson and I were only a couple of years from 45? Was I actually old enough to have birthed a child who was in Basic Sciences? I realized that the discussion had stopped, largely due to me staring in utter disbelief.  I nodded politely, adjusted my flip flop and continued my walk to C.I.A.

Mental Checklist: once 4th semester starts, and after our vacation to England and all of it's pubs, Jameson and I needed to start working out and fighting age 'like a boss'.  That's right kiddies, SNL was popular in our generation first.  Oh, and research how to restore elasticity to skin.