Our apartment complex is doing renovations. And after a while of being here this morning, I heard one of the maintenance workers say to the other: "Ella es muy platicadora."
That translates roughly to: "Sweet mercy that girl just doesn't stop talking does she?" And of course, they were talking about Tess.
The workers were pretty patient with her actually. Especially, considering that after only 10 minutes, Tess had relayed her entire life story to them and all of her hopes and dreams for the future, accosted them over and over again as to what their intentions were in our apartment this morning, showed and explained all of the minute symbolism in each of her birthday cards, recited Shakespeare's Hamlet and that's not even the half of it. She is somehow my child according to Jaime.
I think most parents think to themselves, "I shouldn't leave my daughter alone out there in the living room with those strangers." But my thought this morning was, "I shouldn't leave those strangers alone with my daughter." She really doesn't stop talking.
However, after what our apartment looks like tonight, she might not be so kind to them tomorrow. They've got a lot of explaining to do to her.
Like the damp floor in her room. The lack of ceiling in every room. The dust on EVERYTHING. Well part of that is just because we never dust. But if we're around tomorrow, I suspect those workers are going to get an earful from Tess, who also has no tact. And I don't see myself protecting them from her then. This place is a mess.
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