We are frantically packing for our holiday which will commence tomorrow at 06:30 hours. Or thereabouts. Can you tell that I have morphed into my 4-star general mode? They are making me crazy!
We have arranged for Helen to feed the cats, the fish, and the crabs. You can tell a true friend by whether or not she is willing to toss in raw bits of squid and sardine heads to a tank of teeny little crabs. She is.
We have also packed. Grumble grumble. Grrrr! I have dealt with:
#2 aka "I don't need any swimsuit/flipflops/socks and fresh underwear/attitude change. I need to bring a stereo so I can listen to Metallica/Guns N Roses/ACDC/my Celtic music CD. I also want to stay in a different cabin because I hate #4".
#3 - "I hate hay. Horses eat hay. What if our hay ride gets attacked by a band of angry horses?"
and last but not least, #4, who I will not allow to bring a hatchet, a bag of moustraps ( "For jokes, mama! I promise not to kill any mice with them!") permanent markers (!) or hot sauce. Whose fingernails I cut last night (" How many indignities must I suffer?"). Who is now threatening to shave his own head.
Tonight we go to see the new Harry Potter. Tomorrow, I stuff our belongings and the children into the van, and hit the road. And my head against the wall more than a few times, I'm thinking.
Still. I am thinking that if I just sit on the beach and pretend to be asleep, or at least reading, perhaps they will go and bother Chip. This is going to be an awesome vacation for at least one of us.
When Poe ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
What a combo!
Have fun!
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