Family Reunion Day Three

Lost in the Family Tree (also lost in Missouri)

While driving from Arkansas to Kansas Ali took Danny and I on a tour of the family tree so that we might be better acquainted with Donna’s ex husbands daughters aunts parakeet. Somewhere along the way, while trying to regurgitate names, we missed our exit and traveled an hour out of our way. This is what happens when you use the iphone to research family trees instead of as a GPS. I miss paper maps, with all of their folding frustrations. Good think I flipping love my sister and brother in law. Now it’s taco bell for lunch and twice the Missouri we had planned on.

Baby Names

Ali and Danny are going through the entire alphabet picking out the best baby names for girls and boys for each letter. Usually I am not aware of being a third wheel with them, and normally I don’t regret being twenty-five and single. I actually love my life and the adventures I’ve been able to have. But now they are discussing whether or not Collin sounds too much like Colon and we still have two hours left on our road trip. All of the sudden instead of a twenty five year old bright eyed adventurer staring back at me from the rear-view mirror, an old wrinkled lady covered in cat hair has replaced her. She is mourning the children she never had and thinking about how many great C names she could have come up with for a boy had she had one. Thankfully, she has her cats to name and console, and although she once hated cats and is still asthmatic and highly allergic, she has resigned herself to dutifully playing her old cat lady role in society.

Oh my, they just moved to the D’s, and they’re not even pregnant.

Family Reunion Day One

Context: My brother in law, Danny, my sister Ali and I left yesterday to see his family for two days, and will continue on tomorrow for the Lorenc family reunion. I think there should be plenty to write about. Here's some from yesterday:

Crumb free since 93

I’m driving to Arkansas right now. Well, I’m riding, in the backseat behind my sister and brother-in-law, with whom I have the honor of carpooling. My sister is currently turned around in the passenger seat with her face six inches from mine, shaking the crumbs out of her jean shorts.

This is what happens when you order your already stale subway bread toasted. It crumbles and climbs down jean shorts. She’s screeching that they’re poking her. I think it’s going to be a good trip.

Oh one of THOSE days

You know those days when you get up at 5:15 am to go to the magistrate court to ask them to kindly revoke the warrant they issued for your arrest? The warrant that you got because though you dutifully filled out and sent in the information on the back of the ticket (which you got for not so dutifully ignoring a stop sign), your neglected to send a few key items? (You might think a warrant is a bit of an overreaction, but you certainly don't tell the judge that).

You know, those days when you wait outside in downtown Dallas for an hour next to some other quite kind and warranted folks for the judge to dismiss you? You want to be angry and bitter and scuff your feet, but you have a surprisingly delightful time. (You may have by your side your very own comical comrade who selflessly sees you through the ordeal).

And so you're thinking, at this point, "Hey, it's really not all that bad," and then you walk out to your car with a pep in a step to be halted by a green PARKING TICKET tucked ever so neatly into your windshield wipers. The pep turns to a downright pout, and you are for a good fifteen minutes beyond consolation.

One of those days where you stop at the grocery store to pick up baked goods, regain some of the pep, and then rear end another vehicle in the parking lot. More tears, less pep, and a solemn internal promise to move somewhere with public transportation. Then you end up having a delightful conversation with the person you hit, set up a coffee date to chat about womens ministry, and walk, ever so hesitantly, back to your newly customized car (a mere scratch).

So your feet are quite confused between all this pep/drag nonsense, and you drive NOT ONE MILE OVER THE SPEED LIMIT home to bake. Baking puts more pep until you open your flour and find there bugs feasting. You give up and decide to eat lunch, fix up a snack of all the remaining vegetables in your bare refrigerator, and then just when you're sitting down to eat, break the salt shaker all over your plate. You try to scrape and salvage, you give up, tear up, and eat flourless cookie dough.

I'm having one of Those days. Teetertottering all day long, threatening to utterly destroy my peace of mind, and then just when I'm ready to bury my head in the sand, patting me on the back. On of those swinging pendulum days. I've caught you up to two pm, where I'm left feeling bit squirmish about standing up and moving forward. I'll brace myself, and let you know what the day decides.