Recently my daughter Bea declared her major at Stanford: Privateering.
Her friends Ben and Michael signed on as awkward incompetent first mate and shoulder parrot. So my sister Constance and I decided to try our luck as chief cook and bottle washer, and cabin boy.
Bea was flying home for spring break. We went to meet her at Sea-Tac airport. We picked up a cart, to carry our booty.
Not only did Bea immediately don the captain’s hat and coat we brought along, just in case Cap’n Bea was traveling incognito….
…but from out of her pack she pulled out her very cool pirate goggles to top off the outfit.
The next best thing to a contract signed in blood, we press-ganged an innocent bystander to photo-document the deal.
I have proven once again that it is impossible to embarrass Beatrice.
But we can just keep trying.
Unless otherwise stated, all images and words cNaomi Baltuck.
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Writing Between the Lines 