My sister is here visiting from Portland, Oregon where she is an amazing artist and illustrator. Not only is it awesome that I get to spend time with her, my built-in best friend, but I get to watch her spend time with Isla which is probably the best gift of all. There aren't many people in the world who will light up at your child quite like you, but the two people who (for me) come dangerously close are my mother and, of course, my sister. Watching Chelsea adore our baby with her whole entire body and soul is simply awesome. I hope and pray that one day I'll be able to give Isla this gift of sisterhood. It's a treasure.
The past few days have been spent hanging out, going to the pool, lounging around, talking...you know, the usual stuff close sisters do when they get together. Yesterday we decided to get ambitious (and off our butts) and explore town. Of course we chose the hottest day to do so which meant that we ended up in the cruise ship mall for about an hour to get a cold fruit smoothie, enjoy some air conditioning, and let Isla burn some energy. But aside from that lackluster destination, we also hit up the spice market, the fish market, a local art gallery and did some general aimless wandering in the picturesque town that is St. Georges.
We returned back to the boat drenched in sweat and headed straight for the marina beach to cool off. Then we hit the pool. By 6:15 Isla was in bed and we started readying ourselves for dinner because my good friend, Linda, was coming over to read our tarot cards. Chelsea hit the showers and, about ten minutes later I hear a "psssst!" coming from the companionway. Thinking it was my sister, I look up with a smile and you can imagine my surprise when I see not my lithe sister, but the hairy arm of a man coming through the hatch. What the?! I freeze. I slowly follow the arm, wondering what the heck it's doing in our boat and I see that this mystery arm is attached to none other than my husband, Scott. I stare at him blankly, as if he were a ghost, as a look of total bewilderment washes over my face. "Um....is everything okay?" he asks as I continue to stare at him, dumbfounded. My brain goes a mile a minute as I try to figure out what he's doing there, on our boat. You see, I expected him home on Friday like the last time we were here together...what I failed to remember was the fact that the schedule changed about a year ago so now he comes in on Wednesdays. Whoopsie.
So, not only did I forget that yesterday was our third wedding anniversary, but I forgot to greet him at the dock when he came into port. Wife of the year over here. As usual, I'm blaming the heat.