The Drive

The kid and I are leaving for Oklahoma on Friday afternoon.  When people find out we're driving (17 hours), they look at me like I'm barking mad ("barking mad" is my favorite British phrase of all time - please try to use it as often as you can). There is no convincing them of my sanity after that. I started to tell a co-worker, "Well, the benefit of driving to Oklahoma is -" but he raised his hand and interrupted me. 

"There is no benefit to driving to Oklahoma." Okay, fair enough. 

I made the kid sort through the contents of her room a few days ago and choose items to give to her little cousins (boys ages two and three).  She selected some toddler toys that she has outgrown*, some chunky board books, and a few stuffed animals (although did inform me that every single one was her absolute "favorite" even if she had not laid eyes on it since she was in diapers). Every time she would toss an item into the bag she would remark, "Yeah, I can sell that to my cousins."  I kept reminding her that we don't sell things to family members.  I picture my little nephew saying, "How much for the Elmo again?" and digging in some wee little wallet.

So, we are hauling the toys and whatnot, as well as a bed rail, a water table, a bolt of fabric, and lots of other bulky items that I'd never dream of mailing.  See, there is this one benefit, which is that I don't have to freak out over what will or won't fit in a suitcase. Another perk: I don't have to endure my lady parts being patted down by airport security.  Have you been following the news stories about the new travel procedures?  Full body scans, thorough pat-downs, etc.

I started packing on Monday.  Yes, it takes me five days to pack for a trip. I made a hotel reservation for Friday night (we'll stop at the halfway point).  On its list of features, the hotel notes that it is three miles from a particular detention center. That's some good marketing right there.  "One mile from McDonald's, three miles from the prison."  P suggested that maybe my lover lives there and that this whole "visit my mother" thing is just a ruse.

The week has been pretty hectic, but I'll be on the road Friday regardless.  Last night I went to yoga class so that I could, you know, ground myself and find my center.  My center has been a little bit irritable lately. This may have something to do with a certain foster puppy and rampant diarrhea, but that's a story for another day.  Anyway, I don't know if I'll manage to squeeze out another post before I leave but if not, I'll catch ya on the flip side.  Happy Thanksgiving!

*I tee-hee'd under my breath as I loaded the electronic Mickey Mouse phone into the bag.  It has no "off" switch. All you hear, all day long, is Mickey's voice saying, "Hi Pal! How are ya?" Oh, I'll miss it so.  I love you, sister o'mine!