In 1976, my boyfriend decided to move on without explanation. His final gesture was to return by mail the record albums he’d borrowed, with no accompanying note. That was the last I heard of him.
Five years later, I was meeting a friend at a restaurant in an outlying suburb. When I entered the restaurant, there was my former beau, standing front and center, dressed in a black tuxedo. Stunned, I groped for context: Was he the maitre d’? Would he escort me to the table where my friend was waiting? In the next moment I saw, standing behind him, his new bride and the guests attending their wedding reception.
Lisa Burnett,
Arlington
For 30 years, I sent a birthday card to my Spanish brother-in-law in Barcelona. I prided myself on keeping track of family birthdays and wanted to ensure that the greetings reached him by Aug. 11, or 8/11, his birthday.
One August, on a visit to Barcelona, I commented that the day was a special one — almost like a birthday. With Aug. 11 just a few days away, I wanted to treat my brother-in-law to dinner.
He grinned warmly, thanked me for sending early greetings each year, and explained that his birthday was actually on 8/11 — as in Nov. 8! In Europe when you abbreviate dates, the day precedes the month. Oops!
April Herbert,
Oakton
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