The arrival

It was Tuesday night and Yoli and I were a bit exhausted.

We had been running around for days, making preparations for the arrival of her parents from Bolivia. Perhaps the biggest of these was the purchase of a minivan, which required a test-drive, offers, counter-offers, and a used car inspection.

By Tuesday night, our house was fairly clean. The sun room had new curtains and rods installed, bamboo chairs and table, and a bed.

We had put the girls to bed, knowing that Yoli’s parents would arrive late. I was afraid they might not sleep, since they sometimes stay awake too long laughing, talking, singing, etc.

As it turned out, there was nothing to worry about. Yoli’s parents’ flight was delayed, and the girls did indeed fall asleep.

Our neighbor came over to watch the girls, and Yoli and I piled into my car. I had removed the carseats from the back not long before, a task that had been overlooked. Of course the backseats were covered in cereal crumbs and other detritus, which I swept away as best I could in the dark.

We were planning to meet Yoli’s folks at the baggage claim. As it was, we were running just a bit late. When we got there, we saw no sign of them. Only a couple people were at the carousel — their bags hadn’t shown up.

We looked high and low for Yoli’s parents, and were having no luck until at last Yoli found her dad.

Don Hector explained to us that they had been steered outside by a flight attendant or somebody who thought we would be driving up to the curb to pick them up.

Together, we three went outside to recover Doña Lucila and go to the car.

My suegros explained that their trip had gone pretty well. The main problem was at Miami International Airport where they were twice misdirected, so that they ended up visiting three different gates.

Now at least they were out of airport confinement and “seeing” America for the first time. Of course it was dark and we were only on the highway, but still. We were pointing out everything we could.

Actually, driving north on Florissant Rd. from I-70 at night is kinda neat once you are in Ferguson, because of the nice lamps that line the street.

We spent some time visiting and getting settled, and after a while, it was time to sleep!

About Josh Renaud

I'm the Emperor of the Renaud Empire, which is to say that I'm the husband of a Boliviana and the father of three daughters and one son. When I'm not conquering lands and expanding borders, I'm a newspaper designer for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Find me on Twitter (@Kirkman) or Google+.
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One Response to The arrival

  1. anita says:

    It’s unfortunate that so many people messed up directions for them, but they appear to be very happy and energized the couple of times we Have seen them. I hope they really enjoy their time here, and that our American friends and neighbors make them feel welcome! Looking forward to hearing their perspectives on our little part of the USA:)

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