You are your refrigerator

I remarked to Abby, “you know you’re a band parent when you have clarinet reeds in the fridge,” to which she responded, “you know your daughter’s a hobag when you have contraceptives in the fridge.” Not to mention the Spanish Olives for our martinis just to the left. Oh well.

It’s been a busy few weeks. After the IME meeting I went to two meetings in Washington, one for MAA on Algebra, one for NCTM to decide whether it should write Curriculum Focal Points for grades 9-12. The first was incredibly badly organized, the second a lot of fun. But still, all this travel takes its toll. And Amy was in Boston for 10 days for the MESA meeting. Anyway, she comes home tonight, and we are heading into Thanksgiving. Sally left for New York this morning on the Macy’s trip. I took her a last minute care package of a bagged dinner, Amy’s down vest, and the cover for Amy’s iPod nano.

More and more, as I get older, I value that one day of the year when you can completely ignore work, and spend the whole day preparing a meal.

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