Daughter (me): Hello, Father. I have a question about my taxes.
Daughter: (Explains daunting tax issue.)
Father: Hm. I dunno about that one. You'll have to call H&R Block.
Daughter: (Sighs) Okay.
Father: Guess where your mom and I are.
Daughter: I dunno. St. George?
Father: (chuckles to himself) Sitting on the beach in Hawaii.
Distraught Daughter: ...
These are the kind of scones you make during times such as this. You will gratefully use the good, spicy ginger your mother brought you as a
"Heh, heh, well we-are-retired-now-gift and we knew you guys would want to come, so we didn't tell you" gift.
You are crushed knowing that your parents now have a life outside of home and family, but you soldier on.
Maybe they're thinking they can return to their lives of youth and leisure that they possessed before they had children.
It's an awkward thought.
You'll console yourself about never having been anywhere tropical by eating too many of these spicy ginger scones. Your mother will tell you to stop being over-dramatic because you've "traveled all over the world."
Whatever that means.
You'll want to top these scones with some rich, salted butter, and maybe some jam. You really don't want to take away from the spicy-tropically-gingeryness of the scone itself. You'll probably need to stay in bed with a pot of tea a bit longer than usual.
(On an unrelated side note, this vintage table cloth has the same pattern as my tea pot!)