More on Venice


Dinner near St. Mark's then a postprandial stroll. We meandered over bridges, through tight medieval alleys, until getting thoroughly lost in the maze that is Venice. One would think it difficult to get lost on a small island. One would be wrong. The street signs are in Italian (go figure) and afforded little help. I had my trusty compass but it’s more a lucky charm for me than a navigational instrument.

Tyler wore new flip-flops that quickly rubbed her toes raw. Who among us has not painfully learned the lesson to never wear new flip-flops on a long walk? In her defense, we weren’t planning a long walk. Dutiful mother me, we switched shoes until the flip-flops chewed up my toes then switched back. I gave Tyler the support of my arm as we hobbled our way through the dark streets, past sidewalk diners who watched our progress. I, certain they were thinking, “Ah, look at that woman airing her poor afflicted child.”

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