Yoga

On Saturday morning I asked my Mom to take in a yoga class with me. Instead of saying, "At 8am..after a thirteen hour road trip? Did I raise you to be a crazy person?" she said:

"Can I have a cup of coffee first?"

When the instructor asked "When was your last yoga class?" my Mom said, "Thirty years ago". I thought Mom would like the instructor because she doesn't play new age twaddle and uses anatomy terms to explain the purpose behind the stretches. As it turned out Mom rocked the class and held moves that I was dropping. I deduced that Mom enjoyed the experience as we enjoyed some post-class chai tea when Mom asked if we could go again later in the week.

Jump to Monday night as we geared up for a second 6pm yoga class. Alice had spent so much time climbing her Grammy and singing the "DaDa" song that she had skipped an afternoon nap and for an added bonus was teething like mad.
I worried about abandoning Tony to a scream-filled bedtime, trying to explain to Alice why Mommy wasn't in her appointed place for bedtime nursing. I made a unilateral decision to abandon yoga and apologized to Mom for causing her to miss her new favorite pastime. Mom looked crestfallen though she said it was fine and we decided to take a walk instead.

Rather than just orbiting the neighborhood I made for the Evangeline Cafe", which is a cajun place. When we walked in they had a real zydeco band playing full tilt and folks dancing all over the place. We ordered fried shrimp and dirty rice and had a Mother/Daughter beer at the bar while we waited. "Do you like this place?", I asked. Mom turned to me with a huge smile.

"This is WAY better than yoga!"