Week 3: Rachel’s summer job in Manhattan where she’s interning in a Human Resources Department. She’s been coming home and thematically asking this line of questions:
“How’d your day go Dad?” (For 19 years, I’d come dragging through the front door at the end of a long day. She’d be lying on the couch watching continuous loops of reality TV. Not a peep from her on how my day went. Now she’s asking. Hmmmm. Until you walked a mile in a man’s shoes…)
“Let me tell you about my day Dad.” (She proceeds to jabber on and on and on about her day…giddy almost…youthful exuberance. Anxious. Yet excited. Learning. Being stretched into new territory. Unsure footing. No worries Honey. It will come. It will surely come…)
“Dad, did you read about the Greek vote in the Wall Street Journal?” (Read what, where? Rachel reading a newspaper? The WSJ? I’m getting woozy.)