Un petit francais

So, I’ve got good news and bad news.

Really, it’s all good news but one makes me feel torn.

Item #1:

Julie had her baby. I am now a tante. Not an aunt.

He was born on Dec. 5, his name is Noah Simonnet, and he weighs a little over six pounds.

And he’s a citizen of the European Union, which means he could have an easier time finding a job in France than me, even though he’s not even a week old.


So, that’s cool.

Item #2:

My parents might move to Boston.

For those of you who know my dad, you know he’s a doctor in Duluth and he also teaches at the medical school. He went to a two-week conference last month at the Harvard Medical School, to learn about the business side of academic health centers and how to make them more efficient.

Last week they called my Dad and offered him a job teaching at the Harvard Medical School and working as a general internist at Massachusetts General, only the best hospital in the world and the country’s largest research hospital.

My dad’s not snobby at all, so if he accepts it he’ll have to start wearing more bow ties and speaking with an East Coat accent.

He hasn’t decided yet if he’ll take the job. I kind of yelled at him, saying, “Dad, that’s like me getting an offer at the New York Times and saying I would rather work at the Duluth News Tribune.”

He laughed and said, “It’s clearly about more than the job.”

The only reason I’m a little torn is that my parents have lived in Duluth forever and it would be weird to not have a house to go back to there (even though they sold my childhood home two years ago and moved into this suburban development by the mall).

But I think my dad should do it. That would be sweet.