Do as I say, not as I do!

When we used to go to Greece as kids, we loved going down to the river. Just a short walk from Grandma's house, it was great. No matter how hot it was, the river was nice and cold. Freida used to go down there every day and get drinking water from the small spout (that's me standing next to it in the background). But no matter how often we played down there, we were NEVER, EVER allowed to walk across the river on the big log. NEVER. And SHAME on you for even CONSIDERING IT! But dad would sashay back and forth across it all the time! We were so jealous! Sometimes, I remember he would stand on it, as we watched him from the balcony at Grandma's and he would thumb his nose at us!

Dad-ism of the Day: Dad was told by his doctor not to have spicy, salty or fatty foods. I caught him once making a german salami sandwhich (with Peppercorns!) with thick slabs of velveeta cheese and a heavy helping of Dijonaise. When I confronted him his response was: "Don't eat this, don't eat that. . . May as well lay down and die."

And he took his sandwhich and left the kitchen.