July 8, 2009
As you may remember, I have a new maid. I like her a lot. She is always on time, sweet and soft-spoken, and keeps my house spotless.
However, there was a slight problem. I didn’t know her name. She told it to me when I hired her, but I forgot, stupidly.
She had been working here for a while so I couldn’t possibly ask her her name again. It would have been very rude. But I couldn’t go on developing schemes to avoid calling her by her name. I felt awful.
I had to find out.
My sister was over for the weekend so I dragged her to the kitchen to introduce her.
“Tell her your name”, I said, “then point at her.”
“You really are a dimwit”, my sister said.
“Just do it.”
“Honestly, how can you not remember her name? You should be ashamed.”
“I am. Now say your name.”
It worked. She told us her name. And for some reason, took a great liking to my sister. Every monday when she arrives and Morgane has gone back to Delhi, she asks about her.
I think the painters miss her too. They haven’t showed up.
Oh well, I guess I don’t miss them.