Let's just say that some of us in the Hass-Bark household are neurotic. One of us, in particular, is especially anxious about making certain that the house is immaculate before any visitors arrive. It's really hard to live with a dog that's constantly vacuuming and mopping floors, let me tell you.
But seriously, I spent the beginning of Spring Break frantically accomplishing things (though I failed to not procrastinate grading my students' mid-term exam...oh well). We had food in the fridge that would be appropriate for my sometimes-South-Beach-following parents, clean sheets on the futon, and freshly mopped floors. We also hid a stack of 30+ DVDs that had been residing on top of the blu-ray player because Greta doesn't ever put them away. That jerk.
My parents' visit was wonderful. We went to museums, the zoo, and watched movies. Greta fell in love with Papa Rich, despite being mortally terrified of bald men and people with glasses (my dad is a double threat in this department, as you'll see below). They took long walks to feed the geese nesting behind the apartment complex. Papa would throw bread in the water and Greta would go in after it. You can imagine that the geese were none to excited about that. Greta even let Papa Rich hold her like a baby, an activity that usually sends her into a spread-toed, eyes-straight-ahead, panic mode.
|Look at that paw hooked around my dad's arm.|
|Look at how those pupils are of a normal, unterrified size.|
|Greta, the coyote.|