This condo we’re in comes with twice weekly maid service. We’re not much into having maids though so we tell her no thanks three times out of four. Having a maid seems to do nothing but produce more work for Ali because you can’t have the maid come with dirty dishes in the sink, or toys scattered everywhere, or the crib erected in the bathroom.

Anyway, she was coming this morning and since we were bringing the kids to the doctor for a checkup anyway we gave her the go ahead. But I got ahead of myself here. So Ouest had toys all over the place and I asked her to pick them up. Maybe her hearing isn’t what it used to be, because she didn’t react. Then I told her that she better pick up Dolly because the maid was coming and she just picks up and throws away whatever is on the floor.

“Oooh!” (sounded more like Oooh! Damn!) she said as she jumped up and started grabbing toys to pile up on a chair.

A few minutes later we were on our way out the door when she stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and ran back inside to grab a Matchbox car and a windmill that had been overlooked under the table. Phew, that was a close one.

After this I can totally see myself casually dropping hints that the maid is coming.

The checkup for the kids went well. Turns out they’re healthy. Who would have guessed? The real reason for going was that here in Mexico you need a letter signed and stamped by your kids’ doctor before you can get a passport. It’s a hassle, but at least those pesky Americans will know that our kids don’t have tuberculosis when they catch them sneaking across the border.

Lowe measured in the 90th percentile for height but weighs just a wee 50th percentile. Lean mean fightin’ machine like me. Except when I was one I weighed roughly one hundred pounds judging by the pictures.