Phone

Mom went up to the room earlier today when I was on the internet. The door was open as she approached. Two hotel men were inside, scratching their heads and examining the telephone.

A waitress who helped bring us a high chair this morning looked at Nugget and asked, "Aigerim?".

While Mom was upstairs (with the telephone repair team, who were, bless them, still trying to figure out what the Amerikanskas are having problems with), Aigerim and I were in the business center. One of the women came over and got the unhappy strollerized baby and walked a happy unstrollerized baby up and down while I printed out some pdfs Mitch has sent of (other) fingerprint/AFIS/FBI fingerprint clearances.