Liz was in NYC for a few hours yesterday and we did a bit of shopping for our trip to Italy. As I told you, Lizzie is meeting me and Marcia in Venice on our last night there.
As far as packing Marcia and I both determined that we weren’t bringing any fancy duds because I don’t have a husband to accompany me and Marcia’s husband would rather have lit cigarettes put out in his eyes than take this trip with us.
I was having cocktails with Liz and David last night. I knew that they’d prefer our cozy threesome to any time alone. What would they talk about?
Anyway Liz looked at my shoes and said “You aren’t bringing those Merrills are you?”
“Oh no no, that won’t do.”
She really talks like that. Now this is someone who has chosen for a life partner a guy who thinks that using the word “Hebe” is being politically correct but I guess love is blind, and deaf.
The truth is that I have never seen Liz in any item that wasn’t perfect. When my niece Cheryl comes to stay with me she delights in seeing what Liz wears just to hang around the house. Cheryl thinks Liz looks like Doris Day.
Cheryl tries but she’s a little more “devil may care” with her clothes choice.
She once mortified her daughters by picking them up at school with shoes that had soles that weren’t fully connected to the tops so one of them was flapping when she walked.
When her daughter complained Cheryl tried to get away with it by saying they were the latest thing, Shandals, a combination of shoes and sandals. You can imagine how that went over.
Back to me. As if the Merrills weren’t bad enough I really gave Liz the vapors when I said I was bringing a fanny pack.
The way I see it, I want my hands free so I can glad hand the people I meet in Pizza land. (I really must see less of David)
It might have been a mistake mentioning it to her because I started packing and I can’t find my fanny pack anywhere. I wonder if Miss Manners came over and hid it before she left.
It’s also possible that Elvis ate it.