So here we are, T-minus four days and several assorted hours. Spring break.
Ordinarily I am not one to hie south for spring breakery, but since my parents want to visit relatives and I don’t feel safe in letting them (read: my mother) drive themselves, and an absence from this town and Spawn’s life for a week would be impossible to say the least — I am taking the ‘rents and the kid and we are headed south during school spring break.
This is a two-day trip by car.
Through spring break traffic.
With a one-eyed man, a nervous nelly, and a chatterbox.
And my sweet, sweet bottle of Lorazepam.
I did this trip once before, a couple of years ago, and I’m here to tell you, two days on the road like that and I’m ready for a long walk on a short pier. Or at least a really strong drink.
I don’t relish this plan, is what I’m saying.
Oh, I tried to get my parents to fly down. Seems they only want to fly somewhere that would be impossible to drive to, like Hawaii.
Still, the notion of a little bit of sand between my toes and some of my lovely, lovely book sale finds in my bag is propelling me forward. I could use the break, and the change of scenery.
Wonder what they’d do if I just dropped them off and kept going until I met the end of US Hwy 1.