I'm pretty sure I have commented before on my husband's neurotic obsession that terrorists are tapped into all of the B. family's phone lines and that he MUST NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, RELEASE ANY INFORMATION THAT MAY IN ANY INDIRECT ROUTE REVEAL ANYTHING ABOUT THE MILITARY, ITS OPERATIONS, TRAINING SITES, TRAINING ACTIVITIES OR WHERE THEY USE THE BATHROOM. It used to really irritate me, but now I have fun with it.
"So, uh, I was just calling to let you know that I made it."
"I made it."
"I, you know, GOT HERE."
"A little while ago."
"Like 30 minutes? Three days?"
"Something like that."
"So where are you?"
"Oh, you mean in Oklabraska or Ohifornia?"
"I only have 20 minutes on this phone card."
"What phone card? Did you buy it?"
"No. They gave it to me."
"Who is THEY?"
"Are the kids there?"
"No. They left."
"Oh. Did my Dad take them somewhere?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Are they outside?"
"They're... you know..."
"YOU KNOW. That's where they are."
"Um.... at school?"
"Something like that."
"Well, I gotta go."
"I love you. Talk to you later."
"Where are you going?"
"WHERE ARE YOU? I haven't seen you in four months!! Did the government kidnap you for some secret mission?"
Other conversations have gone something like this:
"So, what are y'all doing in training?"
"Oh you know, stuff."
"Stuff? Wow, that sounds awesome! Do you have fun doing stuff? Man, I wish I could do stuff."
"You know, like military stuff."
"Oh, MILITARY stuff? That's even better! You have the life, doing stuff, and stuff doing stuff. Just imagine, me and my friends doing... stuff!!"
"I was just calling to let you know I may not be able to call you for a while."
"I really? Why is that?"
"Well, you know."
"Um, actually I don't because you always talk in acronyms and code."
"You know, I'm... going... somewhere?"
"Where are you going?"
"I told you already."
"Um, not really you didn't."
"Yes I did."
"So when are you leaving."
"You know. Soon."
"Soon? Like today? Or tomorrow?"
"Something like that."
"Well, you-know-what me when you get you-know-where so I'll know that you arrived you-know-how."
So I went to Georgia for seven days to hang out with James before he left the country.
It was awesome!!
All six of my flights went well. The first lady I sat by was notably neurotic. She kept talking and would gasp every time the plane moved. She was the first one off the plane when we landed in Dallas.
From Dallas to Charlotte, NC I was graced with the presence of a car connoisseur who politely showed me the pricey cars he was planning to buy at auction soon. He also offered to buy me a drink. Literally. I love how plane seating is overly cramped and you feel strangely intimate trying to wrestle the armrest from your fellow seatmate. Luckily the guy on my other side slept through the whole trip. He did snore though.
Charlotte to Savannah was uneventful, I can't really remember who I sat beside. Maybe I was too busy swooning. I do remember several soldiers on the flight talking loudly about beer drinking and how "Palin is just too HOT to be VP, man!!"
The first thing I noticed is that Georgia has actual trees, like 80 foot freaking TREES that are not MESQUITE. I didn't know there were any other kind!!
So off I go to pick up the rental car, luggage and husband.
We spent five days walking around historic Savannah, lounging in the hotel room, watching the results of the election, and eating massive amounts of fast food.
I wanted to eat at places not commonly found where we live, so the first evening we ate at a Mom and Pop seafood place. Blah.
The second day we went to a Krystal's, which is kind of like White Castle, only their meat was a grayish, chopped-and-reassembled square.
So we made up for it by going to Baskin Robbins, who didn't take credit cards and was paid mostly in dimes and nickels.
Red Lobster was up next, and I was a little apprehensive knowing the adorable lobsters int he tank would soon be steamed on my plate. But I ordered it anyway. And it was DISGUSTING. Rubbery and covered in spices not becoming to a lobster in any way. Barf.
I had always heard of Ruby Tuesday but had never tried one. So we did. The salad bar was AWESOME. It was fresh and had such a variety of stuff it was unreal. I'm talking four different lettuces, eight different dressings, croutons and sunflower seeds... everything! We ordered queso and chips for an appetizer and everything went downhill from there. The cheese sauce was nasty and not even cheese colored. My steak was eh, ok. The mashed potatoes had more butter than potato, and the mashed cauliflower was... gross. Even the dessert was unmemorable.
From then on out we stuck with sandwiches.
Savannah was so beautiful. We walked down River Street and sampled the wares of the candy shops, which were delicious and expensive. We also were beseiged by panhandlers in every town square we happened to walk past. By the way, Savannah has 24 town squares, 22 of which are still in their original state. One of the others is being renovated and the last is now a parking lot. Wonderful.
We took a bus tour of the city which was great, we got to see many beautiful houses and churches that took up literally whole blocks. The roads were super narrow and almost all one-way. We also took the haunted house tour, which is another guided bus tour that shows you some haunted houses in the downtown area. I wanted to go in a house but that wasn't allowed.
We took one house tour which was extremely BORING because the guide was 72 and had done the tour every day since she was, like, BORN and we weren't allowed to see the WHOLE house, just four rooms and a bathroom. Psh.
Then James and I fed pigeons outside yet another candy shop and called it a day.
We said our goodbyes and boo hoos and thanks for letting me buy those new awesome combat boots and ultra shatter-resistant sunglasses and far out computer games and razor blades and I came home.
I didn't get to sit beside anyone too terribly interesting except the twelve year old who kept fidgeting and jabbing me with her elbow.
Other than the other passengers, I love to fly. I like the patchwork look of Texas and the green, just GREEN, of all the other states. My Dad got to fly during a rainshower once. I also like looking down at the clouds instead of up.
So, in summary, if you ever get a chance to got to Georgia, or any place without your kids for seven days, go!!
Plane tickets to Georgia: $771.98
Luggage fee for airline: $30
One Diet Coke on flight: $2
Rental car for one week: $455.82
Hotel rooms for one week: $432.67
New accessories for husband: $145.99
Food for one week: $151.77
Almost dying from inhalation when husband decides to Endust his laptop, figuring (quite incorrectly) that the vent in the bathroom would be enough to filter the noxious and proven-fatal fumes but still getting to spend five days with him before he goes overseas: PRICELESS.
Caleb likes to sit in the floor with some paper and highlighters and draw. He draws with such intensity that his tongue sticks out and follows the movements of his hand. Seriously. His thing right now is writing the alphabet, which he was doing when he looked up and said "Mom? How do you write a minnow?"
"Well, it looks like a fish, so..."
"No Mom, a MINNOW."
"A MINNOW is a FISH."
"No, like J, K, L, a minnow, P?"
I almost died laughing.
"It's not 'a minnow,' it's 'L,M,N,O,' three letters," I said.
"THREE letters? Awww, man!"
I figured out something spectacular this weekend.
Give them a Play-Doh set and my kids will play for literally four hours.
They've had Play-Doh before, what was the difference this time?
Perhaps the octopus that you shove full of Doh and squeeze out it's holes to make legs. Or poop, depending on how old you are.
Later on the kids were lying on my bed eating chips.
"Mom, what are potato chips?"
"They're made out of potatoes."
"No, what ARE they?"
"Uh, a chip?"
"No, I mean a GO, a WHOA, or a NO?"
(Which means, are they a good food, kinda good kinda bad food, or a bad food?)
"They're a WHOA."
Then Lily, with a mouthful of chips, exclaims "Man, this is the LIFE!!!"
"Sissy when I turn five I will be in the five grade."
"Yeah, and when I turn eight I will be in the eighth grade!"
"And when I get seventeen I will be in the seventeen grade!"
"I'm gonna live to be one hundred and be in the one hundred grade!"
I've been trying to decide what college courses I wish to take next semester, which means I need to decide on what degree plan I wanted to work for. I haven't figured this out in seven years. Kids have some crazy/cool ideas so I figured what the heck.
"Lily, what should I go to school for?"
"Um... to graduate?"
They kill me. They really do.
"No, I mean what kind of job should I have?"
"Um... be a mom?"
Do they read my blogs?
"No, like what job should I have and go to work doing?"
"Um... you should be a cake maker."
"Or... you could come teach at my school!!"
Then Caleb pipes up, "Or you could be a rocket launcher!!"