Genie

If a genie appears and gives you one wish, what would you wish for?  This question haunted me in my childhood when I thought there were genies. I figured I needed to be prepared just in case an old bottle that looked like a harem decanter ever fell into my possession.

Many attractive options were considered. Money. Super powers. A country. Men. Beauty (more). Intelligence (greater). But blissful after this perfect day with Mel, Carlo and Diego, I think I found the wish: “Genie, I want you to give me the wisdom to know that what I have is enough.”

‘Kidding! I want a liquidity level eternally equal to the US outstanding public debt.

 

Mmmmmona

My very first blog entry ever was about my love-hate relationship with my name.  After months of being away from my on-line life, I find myself at the beginning.  At lunch today:

Mona: “Meat Trio on French bread please.”

Sandwich Lady: “Your name, Ma’m?”

Mona: ”Mona.  [Pronounced 'mow-na']“

Sandwich Lady: ”Spelled M-O-A-N-A?”

Mona: ”No.”

“Ok.  I got it.  Silent A.”

Eh.  Shrug.  As long as they get my sandwich right.

 

Our New House

Digs:   Mommy, when we build our new house, I want a ‘manure’.

Mona:   A what?

Digs:   A ‘manure’.

Mona:   (I had no idea what my eight-year old son was talking about.  But like everything else in life, I faked it.)  You have a ‘manure’ every day.  Little, round ones.

Digs:   No, I want a big, big, house.

Mona:   Oh, a ‘manor’ …