Day 271

Rosemarie and Melissa

We made it to Prague’s Staroměstské náměstí (Old Town Square) in time to see the astronomical clock on the 14th century Old Town Hall mark the 18th hour  with a ringing bell and a mechanical “march of the apostles.”  There, Melissa was approached by a bashful blond teenager who said something like, “my mom wants to know if she can take my picture with you.”

The poor lad was mumbling. We assumed he was speaking in broken Polish-Czech-English, and immediately took charge.

“Of course I’ll take a picture with you and your mom — that’s what you want, right?” I asked, looking at the mom and speaking in very slow English punctuated with a lot of large gestures. “A picture in front of the clock  with your son?”

Are we lost!??!!!son?"

She posed for the picture and when I handed the camera back to her, we  quickly ascertained we were all Americans — they from Chicago, the city where Melissa was born. We chatted a bit and then the mom said, “well, do you mind if I take a picture of the young people?”

She pointed from her son to my daughter,  quickly moved them into position, and snapped a few shots. As we walked away, my mother-in-law said, “that boy looks like he’s here under duress.”

Well, I’m sure she’s right. But we’re not! We’re thrilled to be lopping along the cobbled streets and WE DON’T EVEN MIND THAT MELISSA’S BEEN HERE FOR 3 WEEKS AND HAS (almost) NO IDEA HOW TO GET AROUND.

Really, I don’t mind a bit.

I love  reading  maps.