Referrals exchanged and medicinal information they swap.
Business concluded, diagnoses confirmed, they turn to a more pressing concern:
Each has an eldest child who is single. But surely, this issue is one they can turn!
"My son... he’s a gentleman… truly a sweet little guy.”
"And my daughter… she’s a darling – and, really, not too hard on the eyes!”
Voicemails are left, and emails are sent; surely this match they can cook –
Both daughter and son are joyfully told: "You can find each other on Facebook!"
- - - - - - -
I don't write poetry, so pardon my sloppiness, bad rhymes, horrid meter, et cetera. But there was something about the particular situation in which my mother placed me that inspired me to write that "poem" earlier this month.
Anyhow. I have dinner with that young man this evening, and (after fuming at my mother for her meddling for the past two weeks, but now having gotten over it.... sort of) I'm sure it will be perfectly nice. Although I did tell my mother a few nights ago that I think her biological clock for me is ticking much, much faster than my own; she didn't disagree.
If nothing else, I'll be wearing one of my favorite DVF's, the Spotted Frog Jessica. It looks something like this on me...
Guess I should go get ready.....!
