I’m finally back from my epic cross-country road trip. I realize that epic is a vastly overused word but it totally applies to my vacation. We decided to get back a day early and essentially drove non-stop for 26 hours.
The good news is that we rolled into town around 10am which gave me almost the entire day to get my house in order. Tomorrow I will wake up refreshed and the whole vacation will seem like a pleasant dream. Except for the drive.
We made the five-hour drive from the coast to Asheville on Sunday night, arrived around 10pm, repacked the car and visited until about midnight and took off after a few hours of sleep. We drove straight through (with a two hour rest-stop in Kansas) and got home in record time. Most importantly, we didn’t drive while feeling scary tired.
I achieved this by climbing in the back of the van and sleeping on Blue’s dog-bed while Zeb drove. He insists on wedging himself between the boys with his head either on the center console or Zeb’s shoulder. I know this must be uncomfortable for him but if he’s not going to take advantage of the spacious dog bed, then I will.
He doesn’t eat and hardly drinks anything during the entire drive. We left him with my sister-in-law for the two days we were at the coast. Of course his puny little brain can’t understand that we will come back for him. Once we got back to Asheville, he wouldn’t let us out of his sight.
He was all, “Fuck you. You’re not leaving me again.” As if he had it that bad. My sister-in-law’s house is way nicer than mine.
His bed is pretty comfortable and I rather enjoy the smelling like cedar. I slept whenever I could and drove until I got tired. All-in-all it was a good arrangement. I am loathe to get a room because you are pretty much guaranteed to lose eight hours of travel for four hours of sleep.
So we got home and I got into my TurboViv mode of getting shit done. I banged out the unpacking, got the laundry going, went to the grocery store and made a bunch of soup and salads to help me unload the vacation pounds I packed on.
This is what Zeb did.
Around 2pm I felt like I was going to fall over. I asked – no, begged – the boys to let me take a little nap.
“Please boys, Mommy is sooo tired. Do not wake me up unless it is an emergency. K?”
Nods of agreement.
Then Marvin (aka Shapoopie) jumped up on my bed like he belonged there. Marvin is our house-sitter’s dog. He and Scott lived with us for almost a year so Testiclese was pretty psyched to see him. We had to break for a love-fest.
Marvin is a great dog. He was orphaned by Hurricane Katrina and Scott adopted him after he had been on the streets for about a year. Everything about him is perfect except he likes to roam.
I hiked up Mt. Sanitas (AKA: The Stairmaster) with him and the fucker ran off on me. I figured he’d meet me at the bottom but once I got there I received word that he headed back up. I had to climb it twice. Anyone who regularly hikes Sanitas knows that once is enough. I’m still ticked, but I got over it so we could snuggle.
This was sooo not okay with Blue. He can’t get up onto the bed so he stood there looking all hurt and j’accuse like my ex-husband did.
“It’s purely physical! I don’t know what I was thinking! It’s not true love!” Well, maybe it was.
I banished the dogs and the kid and I closed my eyes for minute when Zeb burst in to tell me something funny he just thought up. I can’t even remember what it was but it was asinine and I was like, “Really?” and he was all, “Oh, are you trying to sleep?” as if me being in bed wasn’t an indicator of my intentions.
“I have been wearing the same clothes for three days and the only rest I have gotten is on a dog bed. So yes, I would very much like to take a quick nap. If you don’t mind.”
He walked off in a huff like I was being unreasonable. People.
After a few minutes of deep, relaxing, sleepy thoughts (about Daniel Craig) and I felt myself touch down into the Land of Nod when I heard Testy bump up the stairs and shove this into my face.
I opened my eyes, knowing that I was fucked. I only get one shot at a nap and that was it.
“What is that?”
Scrote: It’s Blue’s weeky-weeky squirrel. Shapoopie decrapitated it.
Me: Why did you wake me up to tell me that?
Scrote: I thought you should know.
Me: What about this constitutes an emergency?
Scote: I don’t know.
More deep, cleansing breaths.
I got up and started folding laundry and putting stuff away when I saw this note that had been sitting on my dresser while I w as gone. For Scott to find. And think I’m insane. Written on a PTA flier, no less.
I leave notes for myself all over the place so I can use the material for a post. The thong bit was for this post about the POLEder Boulder, and the double bagging part was to remind any participants to make sure their junk was all covered up. It was a family event.
Scott and I go way back so I’m not terribly concerned about him having an even lower opinion of me, but still. Time to cut the crap.
Okay, so I just got home and I’m pretty damn tired but I’M COMMITTED! I’m getting rid of the decrapitated squirrel toy (natch) and this table and chairs. Zeb brought it home to put on the porch … where it has been for a couple years. We never use it. It’s bar height.
About a month ago he picked up a very nice porch swing which would go better there. It’s FREE TO A GOOD HOME.
This is a cheapo dress that I brought on vacation. My nightgown’s strap broke so I wore this to bed instead and it just fell apart. TRASH.
I think Zeb was feeling a touch guilty for not helping me unpack at all, and he asked me if I wanted him to find some shit to chuck. Tomorrow, babe.