Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

My daughter: How’s the India trip going?

Me: Good and bad. Yesterday I had what I’m sure was a 32-hour flight to Dubai, during which the gentleman seated next to me decided he would be most comfortable if he crouched on his knees on the seat, his feet poking into my thighs beneath our shared armrest, while he hunched forward with his business end approximately level with my face. But I also had what Dubai Airport considers an iced coffee.

Iced coffee, probably served with insulin chaser. [No, I didn’t get a picture of the contortionist in the next seat. My guardian angel—in the uniform of an Emirates steward—reminded him that they needed to be able to see his seatbelt. Grumbling, he abandoned his attempt to channel his inner simian.]

Today I had two root canals in Mumbai. But I also had fabulous masala papad in a roadside…