Getting Out

The first day of the County Fair is one of people running helter skelter, calling greetings to each other, barely subdued excitement. It's much like the return to the college campus. The week that follows that day is long and stressful and exciting. The kids love it, the parents live through it, and by the next Saturday the tone is very different. The running is diminished to trudging, the quiet is an indication of the exhaustion level, and everyone is just glad to be packing things in and going home. It was good while it lasted, but we're glad that it's over.

School is to start Monday. We are going on vacation. Ever an optimist, I have visions of the kids and I having a relaxing time sitting around a pool, or enjoying a museum, or playing games in the hotel room. Reality keeps mocking me but I refuse to listen to it. I'll live it soon enough.

While busy with the fair (and the life that went on around it) vacation was the light at the end of the tunnel. Saturday, somewhere between the pig auction and bringing the ponies home, we found time to pack. It was then that I realized how deprived my children are.

We don't take vacations. Being a single income family in a two income world, we don't have the luxury of vacations very often. What we call getting away involves staying with family that we go visit. And there's that once a year gift that Sam and I give ourselves of a weekend away without the kids.

The boys were packing towels. Their idea of going away is camp. Poor things.

The boys were packing shampoo, not knowing that hotels provide things like that for us. How nice.

The boys asked if they would have that thing where you pick up the phone and ask for something. Yeh, room service. That!

Luke says he can't ever remember staying at a hotel. He's beside himself with glee.

We should probably make an effort to get the kids off the farmette more often. The kids will need to be better socialized before they leave for college.

So on our way to the South, we spent the night over in the Metropolis area where the inestimable Trannyhead lives. Guess who we had dinner with? That boy of hers? Is simply darling. Darling, I say. He and Micah are very much alike, except for that adorable curly hair. And the fact that Sumo is as big as Micah and one third his age. And can talk, with very polite manners. But except for that, they got along very well because they're two of a kind. Awesome. Also? Tranny is hawt. But there was never any debating that fact.