Yesterday, Kathy and I met in Columbia for one of our highly anticipated mom-daughter days. We usually mention changing up our long-established routine, but we like how we spend the day, so we end up following the same pattern every time: begin with a 2-4 hour lunch; wander around downtown Columbia, with a stop to purchase a few pieces of chocolate at the chocolatier; sit for 2-4 hours in the mall food court eating the chocolate; then end with a 1-3 hour dinner. We talk, talk, talk during the entire day. Our day together isn’t about what we do or where we go–it’s about the talking. We usually spend 11-12 hours together and, when our time is up and we have to leave for our 1.5-hour drives home, we always mention how we aren’t nearly finished talking yet.

Yesterday, we were expecting a cool, cloudy day with a chance of showers, but the skies cleared, the sun came out, and I’m sure the temperatures were in the mid-70s. It was beautiful for our walk around the downtown area. After all the rain we’ve been having, sunshine made the day even more fun.

Thom and Katie gave Kathy a Shakespeare’s Pizza gift card for Christmas. The card’s expiration date is “When the revolution begins.” Since there was no revolution in sight, Kathy decided this was a good day to use the card. Shakespeare’s irreverent attitude continues on the gift card holder.

Shakespeare’s is near the UM campus, but the crowd includes people of all ages, from cradle to (still-this-side-of-the) grave. The restaurant atmosphere is funky and fun, like the gift cards, and includes this impudent sign in the parking lot.

The impertinence continues inside the restaurant. For example, if you want to find the restrooms, just “follow the yellow brick road.” There is an actual, continuous yellow brick inlaid path on the floor from every room in the restaurant to the restrooms.

You might think of Shakespeare as highbrow, but the restaurant owner doesn’t.

As always, the day ended before Kathy and I were finished talking. After an uneventful drive home, the first thing I saw when I opened the door to the kitchen was a bouquet of roses from Ted.

Ted missed me. The card said “For all the good news this week,” referring to my cancer-free diagnosis and his sister’s remarkable recovery from a severe accident. What a nice homecoming. The roses are gorgeous in the bay window.