Ben lay in bed with Nora. It was the guest bedroom of my in-law’s house during Christmas break. Outside, the ground was blanketed with fresh snow. They were having the type of intimate chat you have with a toddler at bedtime.
“You know, kiddo, when you’re a grown-up, we’ll still be friends. Just call me anytime and I’ll come over and help you work on projects and stuff,” he said.
“Well you’re going to have to take a few airplanes to get to my house because I’m going to live in Minnesota,” she retorted.
Yes, Minnesota: where she is showered with gifts and affection every moment, walks about with Christmas cookies in each hand and goes sledding amongst snow-tipped trees.
Sigh.
How could Portland possibly compete?