At the far end of our 12 person table was a family of three: Roseanne (mom), David (pop), and Angelina (precocious imp of a girl). We didn’t talk that much from dinner to dinner but would see them out and about the ship and chat them up then. From Connecticut, Rosanne had her own business as a hairdresser so SharkBoy and her made a small connection there (didn’t you know? SB was a scissor jockey way back when). Dave was a golf fan and opted to play the course on Antigua while we all went to Prickly Pear Island. Angelina was a chatty tween who reminded me a lot of my niece, Emma, when she was her age. Bright and eager to engage in conversation.

While on the island we discovered two things: Angelina had brought her precious cats with her. Not unlike SharkBoy’s stowaway of Patches. And Roseanne was in her fifties. My mouth hit the floor when I heard that. She looked like she could have passed for upper thirties, real early fourties, easy.

By the third dinner, I wanted to sit by them so I could get to know them better but alas I had to babysit Rudy for the most part.

I hope Angelina is keeping up the stage classes! Knock ’em dead kid!