Back from Final Dinner

Just got back from a last dinner with Voula, Papou and Aris. I sent a bunch of pictures using my phone, but the photoblogging seems to have stopped working.

I'm pretty sure Voula is going to drive Aris crazy.

"Tell me something, Aris, what did you have for lunch?"

"I had pasta at an Italian restaurant."

"You had Italian."

"Yep."

"That's funny, because I smelled grease on your sweater in the car."

"Well, I didn't have anything with grease on it for lunch."

"You didn't go to Italian for lunch, you went somewhere with fries."

"I didn't have fries for lunch, I had Italian. You probably just smelled smoke on my sweater."

"I didn't smell smoke! I smelled grease."

Aris was reasonably nice about it, and maybe lying, who knows? But, he's 30 years old. (And an only child). Ten minutes later.

"Tell me something Aris, what time did you go to bed last night?"

"Oh, 3 am." (This is a pretty normal weekend bedtime for Greeks; they eat at 10 to 11 pm on a weekend).

"And what time did you wake up?"

"10:30, 11:00 why?"

"Because I can see from your eyes that you did NOT go to bed at 3 am, you went to bed 5, 5:30."

"My eyes are red because I've been working 70 hour weeks, mom. Not because I went to bed at 5 am."

"You went to bed at 5 am!"

That, in my opinion, is a lot of pressure. I'll try and send up some pictures before I fly back.