Lessee, I need a book for the plane. This memoir by Frank Bruni might do. All about a little boy who likes to eat. Seems perfect!Tomorrow Iain and I set out for The Holy City, endowed with a full diaper bag, a sippy cup (empty until we get through security, natch), and a recent tendency to scream until we get to watch YouTube. I can hardly wait.
But once there, we will be treated to fresh local shrimp (ok I will be - no shellfish for The Pasha for another 6 months - !!), constant pampering, and a nice, long dose of Grandmother and Grandfather. Iain can hardly wait to see his fan club. And it's so close! Only one more wake-up.
2 comments:
Interestingly, Frank Bruni does not discuss the pumpkin patches of his youth. However, he does go in depth into binging AND purging to make up for it.
G: What did you think of that book? I was torn between liking *him* and really disliking the book/story. And I'm sorry to say I compared it unfavorably to Reichl, which I know isn't fair.
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