We go out to grab a late lunch, or an early supper, or whatever one wants to call it.

I'm with the mom at Panera, which I love for the good food and the free WiFi.

Mom goes to the loo; I check my e-mail. When she returns, she sees that my laptop is open, and says, "there's a sign over there that says 'high-speed internet.'"

I look up at her, over my glasses.

"Oh. Is that what you're using now?"

"Yes, indeed."

"You don't have a cable hooked up, or anything."

I say nothing, because to get annoyed would mean that I naively expected she was listening to me all the times I've told her how convenient WiFi is, etc. etc., and how I only take a cable with me when I travel, in case the WiFi doesn't work.

And I do not want to appear naive.

Fortunately, the waiter shows up with my onion soup, and I realize quickly that the most magnificent thing in the world is onion soup without an excessive amount of cheese in it. Onion soup in which one can really taste the onion. And I'm too much in love with this long-overdue interpretation of the dish to care much one way or another just how often it is that my mother really does listen to the things I say.

But who knows if I'll be hanging on her every word after this . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:13 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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