Not the Donau

When we took the Metro across the Potomac a few weeks ago, we excitedly pointed it out to Mr. Pants, "Look! We're crossing the river!" and he said, "Oh! The Donau!"

"No, not the Donau, sweetie, this is the Potomac."

Ten or eleven hours of driving yesterday and quite a few bridges. We'd say, "Look! We're going over a bridge! Can you see the water down there?"

For the first few, he asked, "Is it the Donau?"

"No, sweetie. It's the harbor."

"No, sweetie, it's the Susquehanna."

Finally, he started asking just, "what river is this?"

"It's the Hudson! We're in New York!"

"It's the Merrimack! We're in New England!"

(Here he asked, "What does 'new' mean?" but just as I was trying to figure out how to answer that one, he launched into a tearful exhausted fit about wanting DiDi and PaPa on the trip with us and how he "didn't want to miss them!"

So we called them.

Comments

[Didi]

It's hard to be a gypsy -- but HOME sure will feel good!

[mar mar]

Didi: You and PaPa are a rock of stability in a sea of change for Mr. MissingtheDonau Pants! Just what Grandparents should be.