Hugh booked our plane tickets to Hawaii today. We will be flying out the end of May, a week after the Man-Cub's graduation, and, if I'm guessing correctly, mere moments before (or, after, depending on the way the next few months go) I have a total nervous breakdown.
Just kidding! I'm fine! Nothing to see here! Moving on!
So, yeah, Hawaii. Sandy beaches, warm surf, tropical paradise...flying over an ocean, wearing a bikini in public, touring my son's home for the next four years...or, you know, his forever home, assuming he falls head over heels with the island and decides to never move back...
I'm fine! Planes don't scare me! I have three months to diet my thighs back into swimsuit shape! I can move into the Man-Cub's basement...hey, wait, that's actually not a terrible idea, I mean, Hawaii! Sandy beaches! Warm surf! Paradise!
This could totally work out.
Totally.
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