“Oh darling,” Ruthie exclaimed. “Let’s take holiday in the Caribbean.”
I should abandon my thoughts of arguing with her about it, but I could not stop imagining a cruise ship running aground.
“I don’t want to,” was all I could muster, knowing very well that I would be coaxed and goaded into finally agreeing.
She rolled her eyes, anticipating the game.
“Don’t be such a geriatric,” she smiled smugly, her Siren Song beginning with familiar words.
I honestly do not remember the rest of the conversation as I hold onto the railing of the slowly tilting cruise ship.
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