Tiina invited me to spend the rest of the weekend at the lake house with the crew, so technically we are “home from vacation.” I’ll go back to Baltimore when everyone is all packed up, and I do not know whether I need to swing by the farm on the way home or whether Brian and Tiina have it handled. That’s because I had three kids with me from JMU to Louisa, including 10yo. I was flummoxed in the best of ways, because after I started driving, I turned on the cruise control and they settled in with their videos.
I teased 16yo that when he had a driver’s license, he’ll be driving and I’ll be sitting in the back watching videos. It was actually a relatively short drive, a little over an hour and a half. It was also not the drive for which I was preparing. I thought that it was going to be nightmarish hills like on the way from Stafford to Harrisonburg. I was relieved to find that it was two whole highways. Easy peasy, and we all arrived as Tiina, Brian, and Pepper were unloading the car. 10yo had a friend with her, and you cannot split up the gruesome twosome. I would never.
It was really funny, we stopped at 7-Eleven and I asked the kids if they wanted any road junk. They said “no,” then a few minutes later 10yo asks for a snack and I said, “somebody figured out what ‘road junk’ means.” Some taquitos and powdered donuts later, we were in Louisa.
Oh, and I grabbed a medium coffee for the first time in my life ever. Generally, I need the Bladder Buster. I want the dark roast, and I want a lot of it. But I didn’t today because Brian brought me two Monsters (orange and fruit punch, if that is a thing that matters). I had one about 0700, so I was good until 1:00 or so.
Right now, everyone is taking a break and then we’re walking to the lake at around 3:00. I am just so lucky to be here. I love this house and everyone in it.
Even when they’re lost in videos, and I am holding onto the steering wheel with Tiina’s words in my head:
Just use common sense.
Oh, good Lord. If we are using my common sense as the yardstick, we are all screwed.
Stories That Are All True 