It’s hard to believe it’s already the end of August.
The kids are back in school (can I get a hallelujah?) and Himself and I are staring at the last year of middle school for one Codefendant and senior year for the other. In an act of parental civil disobedience, I informed The Diva that I wasn’t going to orientation; I wasn’t going to meet the teacher; and, in fact, I didn’t want to even know who her teachers were this year. Frankly, I’m at the point where the less I know, the happier I am. My folks, to the best of my knowledge, didn’t spend a significant amount of personal time up at my schools and I turned out just fine. Stop laughing.
Where’s the time gone, I think. One day, one’s ripping down my wallpaper after completely covering himself with magic marker; the other is helping herself to a midnight snack after scaling my sewing cabinet and opening the pack with my surgical-sharp Gingher scissors. And far be it for me to pass up ratting them out for peeing against the bedroom dresser or dropping britches in the yard to take care of business. Then there’s the nose goblins someone wiped on the walls. Did you know snot strips paint? 👃🏻 I can’t make this stuff up, y’all.
So many memories. A newly minted teenager with all the accompanying pains, sighs and eyeball rolls; another with a permanent driver’s license and, just seven short days after receiving aforementioned license, got his first speeding ticket and lots of talk about enlisting in the navy after graduation. 🚢
So our summer 2017 road trip was especially meaningful to me. And it was going to be EPIC.
Now my husband, Himself, is the original car nut. Our home is filled with car crap, I mean treasures. I even have to share the garage with a ’68 Plymouth Roadrunner. Meep-meep! So you know a vacation almost always involves cars. This year was no different.
So we set out from Texas in a pickup truck that rode like a covered wagon: Himself, two unmedicated Codefendants (they have ADHD) and a newly medicated me. Let me just say long-assed road trips aren’t the time to start an anti-anxiety/depression med, but it beats the hell outta wearing neon and leg shackles, amiright?!
It took two days to get there. So many states, I’ve lost track, but each one prettier than the last.
And this little diversion…
West Virginia, we love you despite the fact you are Dr. Pepper-less. And no, sorry, Mr. Pibb isn’t the same thing. Remember my comparison of Tom Selleck and Peewee Herman? Yes, that. And to our Bob Evans waitress, we’re sorry you got a little miffed when we scoffed about Pepsi products. In hindsight, we should’ve kept our mouths shut, but bless your heart, Pepsi sucks.
Where was I?
Needless to say, all the scenery was gorgeous.
The Diva and I sat in the back, content to read and rubberneck at the gorgeous vistas. His Awesomeness sat up front, Himself’s copilot because apparently screaming this exit! that’s what I said,! yes! move over! now! gogogogogogogo!! is frowned upon by Himself. Full disclosure: I was allowed to drive with all of us in the truck for a grand total of…one hour. No one and I do mean no one likes my driving.
Between the two of us, The Diva and I finished seven books during our trip. 📚
We made it…finally, on Thursday, July 13th. Just in time for several days worth of thunderstorms and incomparable humidity.
But there was fun to come.