Saturday, July 23, 2016

The Lives of our Younger Mothers

"I went sailing around Lake Michigan," my mother says in reply to my father as we drive past the East River up the FDR.

"How did that happen?" I ask.

"Before I met your father, when I lived in Chicago, I was seeing a man who owned a fleet of sailboats, and he took me sailing one weekend," she says.

When I ask for clarification on her use of the word "fleet," she adds, "Oh yes, he was the man who gave me my pet ocelot named Karma."

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