Monday, November 17, 2008

My Parents


Rick and Ann Davis. My parents are great. They aren’t what I would call world travelers—they actually have been out of the country a few times, but they don’t really relish the adventure part, or the walking around for eight hours a day learning part. But they really got in to it with us.

My mom was nursing a foot injury of sorts, so she was especially a champ in being game for all that we did. Their only shortcoming is thinking that I drag Trina around all day at my pace and she just has to play along. She lets them think that too! As soon as they were gone—we’d have put in a long day, and I’d be ready for a break, and Trina would say, “NO! We’ve got to see this, and this and this still!” I’m a saint.

Anyway, the true saints were my parents. We had to move to NYC (into another cool, but necessarily smaller apartment) toward the end of our time together. They even helped us scope out the long and complex route to one of Trina’s interviews, all just in the name of being together.

My dad and I didn’t even get into too ferocious a conversation about politics. How’s that for firsts?

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