Are we there yet?

We don't know yet when Vivine is coming home. It is a touchy subject. That does not keep every person we know from asking about it. I have considered a form of retaliation in which I inquire about upcoming events in others' lives with the tenacity of an impatient four-year-old on a 10-hour car ride. Imagine:

"Have you decided when you're going to retire? I mean, do you have a date? Why is it taking so long for you to retire? I really hope it happens soon for you. Will you tell me as soon as you decide? Promise?"

For good measure, I will throw in a story about someone I know who did something similar and it went horribly wrong:

"My friend recently retired, and he loves it. Well, everything except the government health insurance. He has to take blood pressure medicine and it costs a thousand dollars a month. Plus, he lost half of his pension when the stock market crashed, so he had to get a part-time job as a night cashier at QT. He developed gout, and I think he's getting depressed. But I'm sure that won't happen to you. Your retirement is going to be great."

Of course, I never would actually say anything like that aloud. (Just publish it to the Internet where it will live in perpetuity. I am going to claim the "I-didn't-say-it-to-her-face" defense.)

It is almost September. How can we still be doing this? I suppose I should say something about God and how his grace is the only reason I have survived the adoption without becoming an alcoholic. And that's true. But I also want everyone to know that the unbelievable dragging-out of this adoption is as much of an unpleasant surprise to me as it is to you. I really thought we would have our daughter by now. So, the next time you want to ask me, "Are you there yet?" ask God instead. God has the power to spring Vivine from Haiti, and if fervent petitioning hasn't gotten it done yet, maybe incessant whining will.