My mom's first night in Namaacha. She comes back from the kitchen and asks, “What are those things sitting on the counter?” Scoot and I are perplexed. Our “counter” is practically nonexistent and the only thing on it now is silverware and a pile of lemons. We say as much. Mom retreats to to kitchen and comes back holding a lemon. “This!” She was dumbfounded that what she was in fact a lemon from our lemon tree. She smelled it, squeezed it, and finally had to cut it open to believe us. Apparently Scoot had a similar experience when her friend from America visited last month. I guess our lemons look funny, not that we can tell anymore. Do you agree?
No comments:
Post a Comment