Return of the Prodigal Cousin

Ok, so “prodigal” may not have been the best choice of adjective here. While Emma is spontaneous, prone to wandering off to exotic locales and somewhat difficult to pin down on a regular basis, she is by no means extravagant or frivolous (yes, I am well aware of the fact that “frivolous” has made an appearance in three of my five most recent posts. Revealing? Quite). Furthermore, I may or may not have been the motivation, if not the inspiration (I do have to give Jeremy SOME role to play here), for her most recent getaway. Therefore, were she truly a prodigal... anything... I would also have to classify myself thus, and we are all well aware that I am anything but extravagant or impulsive.

Right.

The point being, she’s back. Tanned, refreshed, revitalized and using terminology no one this side of the equator understands (what the hell is an “Eskie” anyway?!?!).

Not only has she returned, but this weekend she celebrated the beginning of her 23rd year. So I, being the loving cousin that I am, promptly did some research, found out exactly how old she is (see previous sentence), did a bit of baking, hopped in my car (braving the arctic chill and excessive precipitation) and headed directly to Niagara Falls to partake in the festivities.

First up was lunch at Amakara (sushi pizza, anyone?). Apparently I’m the only person in Ontario who doesn’t vacate the province and set up shop in sunnier climes over Christmas, so much discussion was had regarding the glories of Australian and Cuban vacations. Mainly Cuban. Apparently the music is great. And water is wet. The things one can learn…

Thankfully, the focus wasn’t all on Emma and her rapid decline into her geriatric years. Once it became apparent that I was born in the neolithic era, conversation quickly switched to me. Based on my advanced age, death was certainly imminent. But wait! My fears were quickly allayed as it was generally agreed upon that I look pretty good for my age. Phew. Emotional breakdown (and my potential demise) narrowly averted.

That being said, there was a close call in the backseat when Emma slipped into her murderer gloves. Thankfully both Katie and myself escaped unscathed, having endured only minimal inappropriate touching.

After dinner I managed to lift my creaky bones out of my wheelchair and make it to Fireman’s Park, where my glucosamine supplement proved to be worth its weight in gold as it enabled me to send myself hurtling down ice covered hills on a plastic disk.

Tobogganing was pretty amazing, although I do seem to personally defy the laws of physics. (editor’s note: it took me no less than four tries to figure out how to spell “tobogganing”) Getting to sleep was equally amazing, as it was well into the wee hours of Sunday morning by the time we managed to accomplish this feat. Furthermore, Emma has a heated mattress pad which pretty much made my day.

And so we come to today. Breakfast, shopping, coffee and list-writing eventually led to me in my car being serenaded along the QEW by the Tragically Hip and Mumford and Sons, respectively. Sunday evening finds me back in the snow belt, preparing for my last week of school prior to exams. Tomorrow is therefore a school day, which means that at nine pm it’s just about time for me to turn in.

I have triumphantly returned to the schedule of a ninety year old woman.

Joyeux anniversaire ma chérie! Tu me manques.