Look, But Don't Touch or Speak...

Since I'm still really sickly, I thought I'd post this again. It was one of my very first posts, so only a few people even read it. Hopefully, I'll be back by the middle of next week now that I'm on antibiotics. And NO, we aren't going to California this Spring, but we might go this Summer. Somehow, I feel cheated out of a trip but I'll soon get over it. So, here is the post from February 29, 2008:

Mr. Snooty & I are leaving in two weeks for sunny California to visit our daughter who is an assistant music producer in Hollywood, which is her first real job since graduating from UT last year. The last time I spoke with her, she was telling me about eating someplace and seeing Tom Cruise, Larry David & Martin Short all dining together. I am a MAJOR FAN of both Martin Short & Larry David. So, I start getting all excited on the phone until the daughter says "MOM, there will be no approaching, no speaking to, nor staring at any celebrities" while we're with her during our stay. Now I ask you... where's the fun in that? I'm sure she envisions my behavior would be something similar to what Lucy & Ethel did when visiting Hollywood, but I saw it as something more resembling her behavior as a child. Besides, upon ruminating this matter, I've decided paybacks are really going to be hell for my dear daughter.

Can you imagine what I must have said to them in THIS PICTURE? I was SO NOT A DISCIPLINARIAN!

I do recall one particularly excruciating time when I took both kids to Taos to ski for a week. I've always been a huge advocate of taking the children to nice dining establishments on a regular basis, in order to hone their skills of being polite in public & using their best manners. At the time, our son was in 5th grade & daughter was in 4th. Clearly, this was the *Age of Embarrassment*, which was one tiny little thing I'd managed to overlook.

So, one night we went out to dinner at absolutely the most elegant restaurant in Taos, where both children proceeded to embarrass me continually during our 1-1/2 hour meal. They were loud, picked at one another constantly, wouldn't stay in their seats, they were blowing soft drink out of their noses when they laughed, refused to use their napkins, talked with their mouths full... you get the picture. I was horrified by the way they were acting & realized that I'd not worn them out sufficiently during our first day of skiing. If I had, they would have been too tired to display such deplorable behavior in public or anywhere else. Then, in the midst of my living nightmare, in walks one of my favorite celebrities with a small group of people. It was TOM *freaking* SELLECK. Of course the group couldn't resist looking in the direction of an annoyingly loud table... OUR'S. I turned & hid my face so that I wouldn't be recognized at any other point during our stay. The group was promptly seated in ANOTHER ROOM, as far away from us as was possible, I suppose.

Then, I began to notice that they were no longer seating people in our dining room at all. Oh yeah, big surprise there. But, the fun wasn't over for me yet. The daughter unit kept asking for things off the menu that I knew she wouldn't eat, so rather than tangle with her over the why's, I just told her "no" because I didn't have enough money for those things. Big Mistake. When the waiter delivers our bill to us & I hand him the credit card, my daughter says in her most booming outdoors voice "But MOM, you said we didn't HAVE ANY MONEY". The waiter's head snapped around to look at me so fast I thought for sure he had whiplash. Every head in the dining rooms on either side of us turned to stare. Score! She got me again. I truly wanted to morph into a snake & slither my way out of the restaurant. I've never returned to that restaurant, since I have no doubts they have a poster of us with our names, strategically located at the waiter's station to this very day.

Yes, the California trip is really going to be a great experience... and paybacks are always HELL. I mean, isn't one of the perks of aging... being able to finally embarrass your children as much as they embarrassed you once upon a time? It's in the *aging handbook*, I swear!