It has been raining non-stop in Shanghai. For twenty one days. Old records have been broken (as recently as 135 years ago have Shanghainese enjoyed such a delightful three week period) while cabin fever is on the raise.

The soggy lawns and playgrounds are not ideal for past time activities. We have watched all DVDs in our one thousand disk collection, twice. I can't stomach one more round of Candyland or the Grouchy Ladybug game. PBS Kids and Nick Jr. websites may think they are being invaded by Chinese computers based on the number of times we have logged in from here.

I even ventured out to the western grocery store to get some special treats for the family to keep the spirits rising with the puddles. I bought Cheetos at a mere $6/bag, pancake mix ($7) and blueberry syrup ($10). I also bought a bag of Tostitos ($11) and a single avocado ($5).

The western styled breakfast of pancakes and syrup was a hit on a Sunday morning and I've never seen the kids inhale a bag Cheetos as fast as they did while watching Madagascar 2 (MotoMoto was their favorite). The avocado was not quite ripe so I thought I'd nurse it for an extra few days and make guacamole when the stars aligned.

So last Friday morning, the avocado seemed just right and I spent the whole day drooling over the thought of fresh guacamole, corn ships and a Friday night movie as rain continued outside. After we finally got the kids to bed, I ran into the kitchen and...what, the avocado was gone. Ok, ok. Breathe in. No problem. The ayi must have put it in the vegetable fridge....nope, not there. Don't hyperventilate yet. How about the cupboards? No, not there either. Panic was starting to set in...I turned the entire kitchen inside and out, yet still no avocado. After an intense 15 minute search, the avocado was still MIA and I had to resign to watching a movie what was just as plain awful as the guacamoless chips (Renee Zellweger and Harry Connick Jr.  in "New in Town" - And where DID they find those people to play Minnesotans - the accent was not even close!)

Next day, the veil of mystery behind the missing avocado was lifted when the ayi admitted feeding my beloved, $5 avocado to the kids. She had cut it in half and served a half to each kid with a spoon. When the offering had not been a hit, she had poured some sugar over the halves and watched the kids try that version. Eventually the 2 halves (sans sugar) ended up in the garbage...mere hours before I made it home. "Well, the Spanish eat their avocados this way", was the ayi's comeback.

My replay was much briefer: From now on, don't touch the avocado".

And once it stops raining, I'm sure my mood will elevate as well. (David says "not likely.")