this love

Today my mom came to Warsaw. As soon as she arrived we started to prattle. I made a salad for our lunch. There was too little rice and too much salt in it. She would know how much salt should be added. We decided to go and see Urszula Dudziak's concert, which was to start at 7 a.m. We managed to eat ice-cream at Hoża before the show, and in the meantime we got soaking wet as a great summer storm broke out over Warsaw. Although I wasn't cold, I had to listen 5739473 times that I should've taken a sweater with me. And that there was no point in going to the concert because it would surely be cancelled.
Ula Dudziak spoke and sang what she usually does, and everyone was delighted as they usually are. Afterwards there was a great show of the Big Band Riff, which astonished us, like only the big jazz standards of Coltrane or Miller can, but it astonished a little less an ever talking couple sitting next to me with their baby and a wet dog that kept on sitting on my feet. While the gentlemen were playing, it started to rain again, and again we were lucky because it stopped exactly when we decided to go home. On our way she talked to my as if I were a dog. I told her not to talk to me as if I were a dog. A streetcar showed up and she asked me if it stopped where we wanted to get out. I replied I'd ask the motorman. While I was doing this, she said with a strong voice that it would obviously stop there.
Funny. Especially the dog part.