Kid 1 and I took a little road trip this weekend. And very little patience was required for at least thirty hours. Wow, right?
Here’s how it went down. My sister who is NOT Betsy in BBM has a daughter who turned 16 this weekend, so for a surprise, she arranged for us to meet half way between our houses (in exotic and fabulous Boise, Idaho) for a girls’ night/day out. Kid 1 and I left in the middle of her last class (choir, anyone? Let’s go.) and drove with one small suitcase and a whole lot of car snacks.* We were all sneaky checking into the hotel (which was very lovely), telling the cute hostess that this was a top-secret check-in and under no circumstances should she tell our cousin that there was anyone else in the room. She was awesome about it, even though the room was reserved in my sister’s name, and that might not have been entirely legal to let us check in. But hey, we look as honest as the day is long, right?**
So we hid our bags and went out in search of balloons. Which we found. Note: 8 well-filled helium balloons is about the limit for the back seat of Husband’s Mini Cooper. Not sixteen. Just eight. We also hit a bookstore, where I schmoozed up the adorable workers and signed the store’s stock (but only of my books – not anyone else’s). We’d had a top-secret text telling us that they were another hour away, so we got sandwiches and kicked back in the now-decorous hotel room. Then we got the phone call.
Sister: I blew it!
Sister: We’re an hour away, and I told her!
Sister: (Funny description of the telling, which is inappropriate for polite audiences, which you all are.)
Niece in the background: They’re really there? Meeting us? (*squeals of teenage joy*)
An hour later, we squealed some more, and hugged, and giggled, and stayed up way too late talking and squealing and giggling. When it came, it was a nice quiet sleep, until some annoying alarm started honking. I thought it was a car alarm, except every 8 honks was longer. I dragged my body out of bed and crashed into my sister, who was also seeking the source. Which she found. In her purse. Phone alarm. Fie. (I couldn’t go back to sleep, because I’m trained like that, even after staying up WAY too late.) But everyone else managed to go back to sleep, so I waited politely until I was too excited to wait anymore. After I showered and dried and applied at least 2 beauty products, I woke them all up and channeled a scout master (“We’re burning daylight, people!”) and we started some more fun.
We ate omelettes. Yumminess. We went to the mall, because teenage girls enjoy malls, as a general truth. We tried on clothes. Some of us more successfully than others. We ate smoothies. Good ones. We got pedicures. This was my second time trying that game. I like it. I should find reasons to sit in a massage chair while someone beautifies my feet, just a little more often. Want to see the cousins’ toes? Sorry. I tried. But the wordpress security monkey won’t let me upload the file. So you can take my word for it – the toes are adorable. All forty of them.
In the early afternoon, we had to bust out of there, so they could make the slightly longer drive before too late, and so I could get home before dark. Did you know I hate, hate, hate to drive in the dark? But I love, love, love to drive with my Kid 1. We listened to many musicals, including music from “The Drowsy Chaperone,” “Promises, Promises,” “Evita,” “Newsies,” “Hairspray,” “Legally Blonde,” and “The Scarlet Pimpernel.” We may be nerds, but we’re nerds who can carry a tune.
So, to sum it all up, it was a lovely weekend-night-day full of good food and fun conversation and pretty toes. And very little patience required. Thanks to the Husbands (both mine and hers, we each only have one) for making it happen, and Happy Birthday, sweet Niece!
*Here’s what keeps Kid 1 and me happy in the car: Bugles (original), homemade oreos, drinkable yogurt (just me), red vines, carrot sticks and celery, black grapes, those yummy multi-grain crackers (Breton, I think), and Gardetto’s deli-style mustard pretzel mix. Also Lemonheads. And salami.
**I’m referring to mid-June, long, long days. Natch.
***I didn’t really call her that.