Making travel arrangements. Email sent to commiserative brother. I have two younger brothers, and we've all been involved in the odyssey of organizing our mother's vacation. "I'm getting old, you know. Zis may be my last trip to Europe."
Hotel report:
After two three-hour sessions on separate weekends, not including meals (OK, so I like the free food part, just not the choosing of the restaurant) she has reservations for a hotel in Berlin for 4 nights. I now also know things about Czechoslovakia and Paris that I really could have lived the rest of my life without knowing. Do you know that she clutches my mouse hand when we look stuff up and yells that I'm going too fast? At least she bends when sitting in the chair and doesn't suck her teeth when I click [reader, she does these things when I drive]. Maybe next year.
Four days ago, we got to the online reservation form at a Czech hotel, and she didn't let me hit 'send' after entering her credit card. The next day we decided she would skip Prague and go to Paris for 4 days instead.
Yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone selecting a Paris hotel ("What are you doing? I can't SEE! Gina, what are you Reading?"), getting a good rate, and clicked 'book it'. Silence on the other end. Then, "You knoww, can you maybe check deh rates at zeh Marriott? Your Brusser is a big macher sehre." th th th...
I made no attempt to shield my baby brother. I gave her the names of the two best Marriott hotel group options in Paris, and threw the fat cockeyed bastard under the bus. She's planning on calling him tomorrow.
Hotel report:
After two three-hour sessions on separate weekends, not including meals (OK, so I like the free food part, just not the choosing of the restaurant) she has reservations for a hotel in Berlin for 4 nights. I now also know things about Czechoslovakia and Paris that I really could have lived the rest of my life without knowing. Do you know that she clutches my mouse hand when we look stuff up and yells that I'm going too fast? At least she bends when sitting in the chair and doesn't suck her teeth when I click [reader, she does these things when I drive]. Maybe next year.
Four days ago, we got to the online reservation form at a Czech hotel, and she didn't let me hit 'send' after entering her credit card. The next day we decided she would skip Prague and go to Paris for 4 days instead.
Yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone selecting a Paris hotel ("What are you doing? I can't SEE! Gina, what are you Reading?"), getting a good rate, and clicked 'book it'. Silence on the other end. Then, "You knoww, can you maybe check deh rates at zeh Marriott? Your Brusser is a big macher sehre." th th th...
I made no attempt to shield my baby brother. I gave her the names of the two best Marriott hotel group options in Paris, and threw the fat cockeyed bastard under the bus. She's planning on calling him tomorrow.
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