Do you guys remember the Blondie comic strip? Blondie's husband Dagwood would make huge sandwiches to eat between meals. They were much bigger than any human could consume. He would cram nearly everything in the kitchen between 2 slices of bread and top it with an olive on a toothpick.
These past few days have reminded me a lot of a Dagwood sandwich, with me as the middle and my family as the bread. Let me explain. On one hand, I have my parents--they are both post retirement seniors, though neither is hardly idle. On the other hand, I have the youngsters of the family--carefree and careless. I seem to always be caught in between.
Last night, we were out on the town--Miami. My daughters (22, and nearly 18) had decided to get henna tattoos. Henna tattoos are temporary and last for about 3 weeks. The girls have been talking about them for a couple of years. So, when we passed the kiosk, they stopped and browsed all of the designs. They both found ones that they liked. I didn't give it passing thoughts. I figured that it could be worse, they could be contemplating permanent tattoos. So, I wasn't surprised when they excused themselves from dinner as soon as they were done and headed back to get the henna. Everyone else lingered at the table--talking, laughing, having dessert. When we were ready, we headed outside to the kiosk.
My dad took his seat on a bench, scowling. The girls were getting the tattoos. The rest of the family wandered about the area. My dad couldn't understand why they would get that "junk (henna)." He wanted me to forbid it. I spent a lot of time explaining that this is the kind of thing that young folks do and I didn't have a problem with it. In between expressing his disapproval, he did his fair share of people watching. I pointed out young folks with colored hair, rings in their tongues and eyebrows, and designs cut into their hair.
The tattoos came out cute! The oldest ended up getting 2. I should have gotten 1 too. Dad would have croaked.
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