MiniMe decided to go to India for a couple of weeks. She has been doing all kinds of research – reading, watching movies, speaking with others who have been or lived there – and, as a result, is probably far more “prepared” than she needs be. “I think you may have over-researched,” I advised her and added, “If it were me going, I would watch Gumnaam – or just the clip with the Jaan Pehechan Ho song, Darjeeling Limited, Slumdog Millionaire, listen to a couple of M.I.A. songs, and eat some curry. I wouldn’t, however, read or watch Eat, Pray, Love – not a fan.”
As a result of research and a few friends with concerns, MiniMe – with her cornrowed hair, newly acquired waterproof clothes sprayed with bug repellant, sleep sack, Urinelles and knife – was ready for India.
With all of her items in a newly acquired backpack, we headed to the airport. “Are you excited?” I asked. “I’m actually scared. I was hoping you would pull over so I would miss my flight,” she informed me. “Why?” I asked. “I hate camping,” she replied. “You’ll be fine,” I assured her. “I really don’t want to poop in the woods,” she told me. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry about it. Look at That’s Not Chinese – she pees and poops outside all of the time, for no reason, here in the United States, in my front yard.” “I know. She told me,” MiniMe said with no sound of increased faith in the trip.
We pulled up curbside, just outside her gate, and she hesitantly made her way to check-in. As I drove away, I phoned Q to let her know she had departed. “She has carabiners on her backpack, so she should be fine,” I told her. “Carabiners?” asked Q, “What is she going to do with those?” “As if I know,” I replied. “I know she’ll be doing community service and trekking the Himalayas, so chance are she’ll use them for window cleaning or climbing or both. Assuming, of course, she makes it to the gate.”