You see, I spent the last evening with Photo Mommy and her family, and I have come away from that experience refreshed, and ready to take on the chaos that is my 'We're going to France in 36 hours" life.
As always, we start the visit saying "THIS TIME, we will take photos before the Very Last Minute...."
And as always, it was mere moments before I hopped in the car to race back to the airport that we were pulling out the cameras.
She takes great photos with her camera phone. You should go over there and see.
Me? I will never have the paparazzi gene.
But seriously. Go over to her diary. She managed to airbrush out my extra chins.
And when I take photos, I look like The Joker.
After taking photos out on her doorstep, I dumped Skip in the car, and with Photo-Mommy's children hanging off of his arm, we backed out of the driveway, and out through the maze of numbered streets back to the freeway, and thence to the airport.
Can I just say that I was VERY happy that I was going SOUTH to the airport? We got to just south of Seattle, when all (and I mean ALL) of the northbound traffic came to a grinding halt. And there it stayed... ALL THE WAY to our exit. Probably 6 miles worth of gridlock. Ouch.
I would've run out of gas for sure, seeing as I'd paid the rental company the "return the car empty' prorated fee for teh tank of gas, and wanted to get my money's worth. We coasted into the rental return area with the "Add gas NOW" light on. I feel like I came out ahead on that transaction.
And wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles, when I went to check in, the kiosk computer asked "Would you like to take an earlier flight?" Well, I thought you'd never ask!
Heh. Funny story. We were going through security, and, because Skip had been asked to take off his fleece sweater to go through the metal detector on the way UP to Seattle, I suggested he be pro-active, and take it off before going through security in Seattle. When he pulled off his sweater, he had this big scrape/gash across the back of his neck. "Egads, Skip, what's that? Another war wound from the rock tossing episode?" He felt his neck. "Nope, it's not a rock." "What, then? Was it perhaps part of a stick-fight that you had up in the forest last night with the boys?" "Nope." "Skip?! Was it one of the girls that did that?" He laughed. "No, mom. It was the little guy. And not a stick. He did it with his fingernails when I was giving him a piggy back ride."
Ah, mystery solved.
He's going to make a great dad some day, because he thought the lumps on the head, and the scratches on the neck were kind of fun, and he was happy the little ones had a good time while he was there.
We're home 2.5 hours earlier than we would've, and I'm already 3 loads of laundry ahead of the game, and I've been to Trader Joe's to get snacks for the Irish family that will be joining us at the chateau in the French mountains on Sunday.
Oh, and I've already packed Nate's suitcase. Kelly has a pile started, and Skip just said "whatever", so you know packing for him is a no-brainer.
Now, if only I could find that pile of bills that really needs to be paid before we head to the airport on Friday.
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