Monday, September 21, 2009
It was all cogs and wheels turning at Mater Headquarters this weekend when the new satellite dish was called upon.
My brother made a desperate telephone call from Paris. He had worn out his shoe soles hunting for a Hippopotamus Restaurant; he knew it was nearby, had wandered in vain up and down such and such a street, and the hungry tourist gave up at last and contacted the old homestead, firmly believing that his mother, in Ireland, could assist by way of the dish.
"Hold on," said Mater. She tapped a few buttons and fed a few fine details into the machine.
"Proceed directly to 9, Rue Lagrange," said she soon after, wondering to herself what was a Hippopotamus Restaurant, and what was a Rue, only certain that her son was far from home and in immediate need of them.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 4:43 PM