[ Old Woman Hil ]*

When I got home from Ghana, I called my bff to see what I had missed while I was gone.

Normally before either of us share major news, we sort of mentally prepare the other one first.

Like with this whole adoption thing, I called her a few days ahead of time and told her that I needed to talk to her about something important.

"You and David are leaving the country, aren't you?"

Once I reassured her that, at least for now, we are here, we decided to talk in 3 days, so she would have time to prepare mentally and not be caught off-guard.

So when she shares big news, I expect the same courtesy. It only seems right, don't you think?

Apparently, she doesn't.

Because when I called her after my trip to get updated on her life, she just threw it right out there, like it was no big deal:

"We are shopping for mini-vans."

"WHAT?!?!" (Screaming)

"We are looking at vans."

The only words that came out of my mouth were, "No, no, no, no, no."  I'm also shaking my head in complete HORROR, but she can't see me.

"No, no, no, no, no, Hilary. No, no, no, no, no."

It took me a good 2 and a half days before we could even broach the subject again.  And even then was still rather sensitive.

I was not prepared for this.

There are days in your life that you know will eventually come. 

This was not one of them.

Mini-van shopping has never, ever presented itself in my thoughts.

Has she thought this through? Why would they do this? Are they sure??

I'm having a MUCH harder time swallowing this than she is about us trying to become parents to 1-3 preteens who do not speak English.

Anyways, she sent me this email a few days ago, and I was reminded that although she might be a mini-van driver, at least she is still absolutely hilarious.

And who doesn't love crazy old women?

A little preview of the past week or so:   March 26: Drop baby off at grandparents to go test drive mini vans.   March 29: Sell our cool SUV to help pay for mini van.   March 30: Go bathing suit shopping with Miranda. Decide after much deliberation that the one with the skirt is the way to go for maximum coverage.

Leave Miranda's house by 7:30 so I'm not on the road after dark.

Get in the car and try to decide what I'm more in the mood for: Dolly Parton's greatest hits or Delilah on B98.5. I go with Delilah. 9 to 5 is a bit too much for this hour of the night, and I need something mellow.

Joel and I fall asleep searching for vans on the internet.   March 31: Strain my back getting my huge baby out of his crib.

Type this e-mail in a blue plush bath robe with red fuzzy slippers (seriously, all I am missing are the sponge rollers in my hair for the complete geriatric look).

The kids across the street are hootin' and hollerin' and it takes all that is in me not to run out on my front porch in my robe and slippers, shake my fists at them and tell them to keep it down over there. I resist the urge. I might further strain my back. I need to be well for lunch at Journey's End tomorrow.

Finally decide to wrap up this e-mail because my eyes are giving me trouble. Allergies? Cataracts???  I'm going to go with the latter.   Your once youthful friend, Hilary