Some Say Tomato

           You already know that St. Bob and I went to Europe for Thanksgiving. But I now have the low-down on why so many cathedrals have scaffolding around them: If you have scaffolding you don’t have to pay taxes.

This could be the entire explanation for why the huge Sagrada Familia in Barcelona hasn’t been finished for 150 years, and will take another hundred, so they say. 

While there, I bought a mouse pad featuring the mosaic work of the famous artist, Gaudi. 

But that can’t be the end of the story, can it? Nope. Our eldest, Richie, came over and asked why I had a mouse pad on my mouse pad. Okay, it's small so it’s atop another one, in case I roll off it.

And you can be sure I said, “That’s Gaudi, by the way” to which Richie said, “I think it’s pronounced Gawdy.”

“No, Gaudi,” I said.

          Our son was smiling. “It was a joke,” he explained.

 I picked up the mouse pad and smacked him over the head with it. “Now it’s a weapon,” I said.

When you order my books, which you must, do not use them as weapons. You might hurt the books.

Lucy's Got More 'Splaining to Do!

           You know that my luggage brand is “Ricardo,” right? This fact is not forgotten by my family.  Nor by Karma, nor by any other supernatural powers that turn my trips into comedy routines.

          St. Bob and I just returned from a cruise. 

          The first leg of the trip took us to Chicago, where we saw this giant replica of a Bracchiosaurus that roamed Utah exactly where I grew up. Timing is everything.

          In Barcelona I tied my coat around my waist and pretended to be tidying up at Park Guell, and sent this photo to our kids:

          Brandon wrote, “I guess somebody’s Gaudi do it.”

          Then I got hooked on a jigsaw puzzle on board the ship:

          The next day I saved a little dog on Las Ramblas from getting hit by a car. He had chewed through his leash and the owner was just sitting there, eating and talking, not paying attention. You’re welcome, Spain.

          Next, off to the French Riviera. I was pointing out a building to Bob, in Monaco. I was telling about the flags, vaguely aware that Bob had worn a dark jacked and a baseball cap that day. Suddenly I looked up and it wasn’t Bob, but this good sport of a guy:                                                                

          And, of course, Bob came over and told him this is not the first time this has happened. Brandon said, "You found Dad's doppelganger."

          We got back on the bus and I dropped my water bottle. Bob asked if it broke, and was actually disappointed when I said no. “Darn,” he said, “I was hoping I could tell everyone that your water broke.”  Yep, this is how he thinks.  I texted the kids and Richie wrote back, “It’s really a shame there isn’t video of this.”

          And then, in Nice, we saw a twin of our cat, Simon, who passed away a few months ago. Maybe it really was Simon, letting us know he was now living in the lap of luxury. Or maybe he came to Nice because he thought it said Mice.

          Eventually we came home. I showed my ticket to the flight attendant and said, “2B?” She pointed out the way, and then I winked. “Or not 2B?” 

           She needs to buy mybooks. Especially A Little Christmas Prayer, the perfect Christmas gift.