First off, I’d like to thank everyone for not robbing me. Because it’s not very smart to post online about being out of town while you’re out of town. But I figured the small group of people who read this are good people. And I put my lights on a timer, just in case.
1,670 miles. And I will never do that again. At least not with both the kid and the pets. Someone's staying put next time, a dog, a dad, perhaps a kid. Because it was just a little too much. Our visit was great, as always my in-laws were more than accommodating and we had a great time. I’m very fortunate to have such great people in my life. But getting there and getting home was not all that great. Even splitting our trip into two days did little to put me at ease. For example…
This morning, after a full day of driving in Pennsylvania bottlenecked construction hell, and then tossing into a turbulent night’s sleep with a very off schedule and out of routine baby, I stepped out to start packing the car. In my grogginess, Mason, our husky, (see here, here, and here), squeezed his pinhead right past me out into the hallway. When I turned to grab him, Bruce—once thought to be our good dog—bulled his way out and the stampede was underway. I had to give them credit—the plan they’d sprung was perfectly executed. When the door slammed shut I was left with two dogs making a getaway, no leash and no key. The last thing I remember thinking as I watched Mason take the corner towards the lobby where guests were sitting down to breakfast was, I’ll have to blog about this.It ended up being way less drama than I anticipated. I mean, sure some old people dropped their wheat bran toast and gawped, but luckily I was able to round them up without further incident. All this before 7am.
Outside, the rain was heavy, which was good because it washed my car clean of the sludge from up north. But it wasn’t good weather for putting your entire little family at risk. With white knuckles and tight necks, we slogged our way down I81, weaving in and out of truckers. By the time we stopped at Sheets in Virginia, the weather had cleared but the damage was done. My shoulders drooped, my hair was matted, I was toppled over from the constant worrying that yes, this is it, that truck was coming over into our lane and taking us out. And because Simon hadn’t had his nails trimmed all week and had clawed my face earlier that morning, I had cuts and nicks on my forehead giving me that just- binged-on-meth glow.
And the car was in worse shape. The seats reeked of wet dogs and dirty diapers. There was the drool from Mason’s neurotic meltdowns. I had to laugh though, as my wife got up to use the bathroom and her pants were covered in dog hair. I’m really surprised people didn’t offer us money.
But now we’re back. And there’s nothing like pulling into your driveway after a long trip. I have to get back into that car tomorrow and drive to work, a sickening thought. I know that truck driving is not in my future. There are few things worse than sitting for hours at a time. But my family is home and safe and now there’s nothing to worry about….except….what’s that smell?