It's Finally That Tuesday

We just finished loading the car for our trip to Mayberry. The Girl’s suitcase, which has been packed since roughly three decades ago, was the first item in the car which should come as a surprise to no one.

At the other end of the spectrum was the Man-Cub who attempted to get by with a baseball glove, his Nintendo DS, a skateboard, a change of (I think) clean underwear and a bag of sunflower seeds. Nine years of experience as his mother has taught me to expect just such an attempt so, I took the liberty of packing a suitcase for him; I hope he doesn’t mind wearing girl’s panties and a feather boa for a week.

I’m kidding. Although, that would teach him to properly pack his own damn bag.

Speaking of which, my suitcase is chock-full. I packed more clothing than a single woman has any business owning let alone packing for a week-long vacation. But! I’ll be prepared for any situation. In addition to my suitcase, I threw in a bag of shoes (any situation!), a bag of toiletries and cosmetics and my camera bag. Hugh looked a bit concerned upon viewing the massive pile of luggage; he may have imagined that I was scheming to leaving him. Of course, we all know that would never happen, after all; who else would put up with my insane Diet Pepsi addiction or with my obsessive need to own every new shade of OPI nail polish?

Just in case I was plotting my escape, however, he held out the promise of a grassy backyard upon my return. He held that promise out like a juicy carrot right in front of my nose and, because I love him, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt (six years without grass, people! I’ve heard it all before!); I trust that I will, indeed discover grass upon my return.

(Of course, merely typing that sentence practically begs fate to royally fuck me. Hey, Fate, you know I was just joking, right? I know there will still be a barren wasteland of a backyard behind my house when I come back next week, please-oh-please-oh-please don’t screw with me, m’kay? Thank you, in advance, for your cooperation).

Anyhoo…, we are off to the County Fair so that I can judge the photo contest. Then, following a quick trip to the Starbucks drive-thru for strawberry crème frappuccinos, we will queue up the iPod and hit the road, excessive luggage, bad yard karma and all.

Mayberry, here we come.