Two for the Road, One at Home
Yesterday I haunted the Air France website, checking first to see that Celia's flight to Paris had arrived, then to see if her flight to Africa had taken off and, finally, to be sure that it had landed.
It did! She arrived in Cotonou, Benin, on Beninese Independence Day. Her big sister was waiting for her. What seemed preposterous two years ago — that I would have even one daughter in Africa — is now even more so. I have two!
Two girls on an adventure, two girls buzzing around on the backs of motorcycles (trying not to think about that part), two (girls) for the road.
Luckily, I also have a daughter who travels more conservatively, who even as a toddler would ask, "How we get home, Mama?" when we were on vacation.
We need both types: the micro and the macro. The ones on the road and the ones waiting for them back at home.
It did! She arrived in Cotonou, Benin, on Beninese Independence Day. Her big sister was waiting for her. What seemed preposterous two years ago — that I would have even one daughter in Africa — is now even more so. I have two!
Two girls on an adventure, two girls buzzing around on the backs of motorcycles (trying not to think about that part), two (girls) for the road.
Luckily, I also have a daughter who travels more conservatively, who even as a toddler would ask, "How we get home, Mama?" when we were on vacation.
We need both types: the micro and the macro. The ones on the road and the ones waiting for them back at home.
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