Had anyone been looking for us this past weekend (which they weren't; the only message we got on our lonely answering machine--who has those anymore? we do--was from a desperate 800-service), we would have been found relaxing our way back to some semblance of sanity in the mountains of North Carolina.
|Isn't it funny when you end up with pictures of people you don't know and will never see again?|
I just downloaded some pictures from our ancient, but still-functional camera, and labeled the folder "2014", only to discover that the pictures date back to like 2012, in which case I wondered to myself who doesn't take the time to document and save the important picture-taking moments by backing them up on their computer? I guess we don't. Because there were 571 pictures on there, and now they are all dated "2014", which will be confusing when we look back at "2014" and wonder how the kids had several birthdays, Christmases, Easters, a few Mother's Days, a Father's Day, several vacations, and lots of sporting events all in one year. In any event, they are all on my computer and the memory card in the I-won't-ever-die camera (related to the I-will-never-ever-die washer and dryer combo--circa 1999--that remains firmly established in my laundry room, like squatters, edging out the newer competition--with timers and multiple settings and steam cycles!- that I drool over every time I go to Lowes) is cleared out for the next three years of picture taking.
|NOT 2014. Nice face.|
Jon and I got into an argument over cupcakes while we were in North Carolina. He heaved out a heavy, so-over-it sigh over my insistence that if we're going to buy a dessert--which I don't think we should because haven't you read about how sugar isn't healthy but whatever--can we make sure it's healthy and did you read the ingredients list before you put that in your basket? Leave it to mom to squeeze all the fun and celebration out of a fun and relaxing weekend, passing silent judgement on those who choose to eat sugar.
|Pumpkin spice cupcakes deserve a bigger-than-usual picture space.|
I do it like it's my job.
We don't argue about much, so cupcakes is at the top of the List of Things We Argue About. Cupcakes and the Great Sprinkler Versus Hand-Watering Debate. I sprinkle. He hand-waters. We both think we are equally as effective. Hence the argument.
So I typed out an enraged text over The Cupcakes, and then we were over it. Texting is a good thing, especially when one is incensed over cupcakes, but one cannot express her frustration over said cupcakes with the kids in the car, because even she knows she sounds the slightest bit unbalanced.
The day before the cupcake debacle, we stopped at a beautiful lake along the parkway and, since we have taken a picture every single year at this exact spot (all now probably labeled "2014"), we stopped again and snapped away. Only this time, I stepped in what I'll call fresh fecal matter from a dog, because my other word for it is rude.
|Happily standing in poo and not even knowing it yet!|
Only I didn't discover this until I'd already gotten back in the car and tainted the air, plus I crossed my legs and smeared it all over the side of my other shoe.
So I got out of the car with napkins and handy wipes in hand, glaring at all the dog owners walking around. But what can one really do with a handful of napkins and two packs of single-use handy wipes when she's stepped in a pile of dog excrement--in tennis shoes? So all the cracks and crevices, not to mention the mesh side of the other shoe, were contaminated.
I scrubbed and glared and scowled and scrubbed and finally hauled myself down to the edge of the lake, gingerly dipping my shoe into the water and wiggling it around, hoping that the poo would just go away.
And all the while this woman with wild, curly hair was standing just behind me, balancing herself on the rocks at the edge of the lake and shouting to her friend "It's beautiful, just gorgeous! Beautiful. COME LOOK! COME! It's GORGEOUS! Just BEAUTIFUL! and on and on and on she went, while I dug at my stinky shoe with a stick. I glared at her too, because NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.
Did you know that most rest stops along the parkway don't have trash cans?
At least this one didn't. And I am not one to litter.
Did I mention that there were no gloves on hand?
I don't hate dogs, but sometimes I might hate dog owners.
As it always does, this particular vacation brought our family closer together, poo and all. We simply enjoyed the company of each other, spending time hiking and playing in the creek outside our cabin and just relaxing.
I took long, relaxing baths. And finished a 375-page novel. (The Glass Kitchen by Linda Francis Lee. Read it.)
My kids became best friends again.
We ate cupcakes and played Sorry (and Bingo for prizes!).
I'd happily stand in dog poo with these guys any day of the week.
|The real "2014"|