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Destinations, Dreams and Dogs - International adventure with a fast-track family (& dogs) of Old World values, adopting the Russian-Italian-American good life on the go…!

Things We’ve Forgotten at Home

thDespite my penchant for lists, lists, and more lists, our crew forgot things at home.  At least, I hope they’re at home. Who knows?  Maybe they fell out somewhere on the way to Israel and there are happy campers in northern Swiss towns or remote Greek islands who benefited.

It started early with our boys.

“You need to clip your nails,” I announced when I spied his longish claws.

“Don’t worry, Mama, I will,” he replied.

We had the same exchange about five days in a row, until his father arrived and I discovered that our three male membersgift-shop-pic-1024x783 had not a nail clipper among them.  I don’t use nail clippers, so I could not be of tremendous help there.

But I could shop, so I headed for the kibbutz guest shop where we were staying at the time.

“Nail clippers?” I stuck my head inbetween tons of tourists trying to buy this or that at the cashier.

“We used to have them,” she pondered, poking among the keychains.

Maybe it was a keychain item in Israel, right up there with menorahs and Stars of David-? 

o-CONTACT-LENS-SOLUTION-570We had no time nor opportunity to visit a pharmacy, and besides, I had already made my pharmacy run to buy the contact lens case and solution for the friend who ended up not using the items I had spent so long searching out, instead, bringing a bathroom drinking glass partially filled with water to the bus, contact lens bobbing in the bottom.

Why was I always getting involved in other people’s dramas?

Could be due to the fact that they had nails the length of wild wolves, or they were going blind after having worn contacts halfway around the world.

Not letting the nail clipper issue drop, I headed back to the gift shop during a slow time.  Not sure whether it was a slow 1101056time for them or for me, but somehow the planets aligned properly and she ferreted out nail clippers from a back supply closet.  The land of miracles!

I also needed to borrow my son’s phone.  (This is another great question of life, why I prefer to use his phone over my own, but we’ll leave that for another day.)  I uncovered a text to his father, asking him to bring more deodorant.

Aha!  They hadn’t followed my packing list, as another son demonstrated by a green polo shirt that was not the same color green I originally had in mind.

green“I don’t have that color green–” he started, but since I buy the kids all of their clothes and have the mental faculties of a super microchip, if not a chocolate chip, I knew this was definitely not the case, but it did me very little good to pursue the point while in a foreign country.

He had bigger problems which cropped up on our desert day.

My husband had just bought a khaki sun hat.  It was rather small of brim, not doing a great job of sun protection, but since he had forgotten his beloved archaeology hat, I prevailed and he bought this one.

Now it was on my second son’s head.

“Where’s #2’s hat?” I whispered to my husband while on tour.

“He can’t find it.”

“He was wearing it yesterday….”

“And today it’s gone.”

“Great, just great. And now you’re turning into lobster head,” I observed.sun-hat-pebble-pepper

“I’ll be fine, I put on plenty of sunscreen,” Benedetto assured me.

This did not go far to reassure me since the sun in Israel is about 20x the strength of sun anywhere else.  As a matter of fact, it’s a secret weapon that they must use in defeating their enemies, who, although they are also Middle Easterners, probably don’t know the power of sunhats.

So there I went, off shopping on the top of a mountain, the solution to any of life’s problems.  I highly recommend it. 

Ended up spending more than my fair share on a stupid-looking hat, which I gave to my son, and let him know that he would be reimbursing me for it.  Benedetto also insisted that he find his original hat which was a very good one.

He did.

I’m beginning to think that this forgetfulness, or lack of planning/remembering is a guy thing.  Ya think?


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