So I wrote that last post and Otto and I joked about how I’m just easily spooked and kind of jumpy in the car, and how really the worst is behind us—we’re headed further north, now, and we’ll take a different route when we come south again (read: NO BOSTON OR CONNECTICUT DRIVERS), and really, it wasn’t so bad, and the camping—OH THE CAMPING—is gonna be awesome.
I told him he was right, I was going to focus on the good stuff coming up and stop obsessing over all the people on the road who are apparently trying to kill us.
And yesterday we retrieved the children after two long weeks without them. Chickadee appears to have grown about a foot, and Monkey’s hair seems to have grown about that much, as well. We met up with some old friends for lunch and then came back to Otto’s brother’s place and the nephews were VERY happy to see their cousins, and there was much running and screaming and glee.
My sister-in-law even set up their fire pit and let the kids make s’mores for dessert, which was more excitement than should be legal. Then there was some complicated bedtime musical beds; Monkey was going to sleep on the floor of the boys’ room and Chickadee was going to sleep on the floor of our room, but then first one nephew and then the other decided to sleep on the floor, too, because that looked like so much fun, and when it was pointed out to Chickadee that there were now two free beds in the other room, she immediately opted to bunk with the boys in order to have an actual mattress.
Much to our surprise, all four kids conked out at a decent hour and even slept late. Making s’mores and playing Bakugan wears a kid out!
Meanwhile, Otto and I prepped for today’s departure, including doing laundry because New England forgot to have summer this year. I have in my possession ONE pair of jeans. Because it’s nearly JULY. And even up here in the frozen north, this is typically a good time for, you know, HEAT. But no. It’s been cold and rainy and dreary, and I went to check the forecast for Lake Placid—thinking surely it would be better—only to discover our camping time is slated to be… cold and rainy and dreary. Hmph.
No matter! We’ll have a great time no matter what! It’s an adventure and my family is together and I can feel the love! (Currently my children are expressing how much they missed me by sleeping here in the truck behind me. Which is fine. It’s one of my favorite expressions of love, actually.)
So we’re on our way, and we get to the tollbooths to get on the Mass Pike, and as we pull out of the booth a car sliced right across our path at top speed, cutting us off and missing our front bumper by about half an inch. Otto laid on the horn and I gasped and the driver never so much as glanced in our direction.
Otto kept driving, and I’m sitting here desperately hoping that when I finish typing I’ll fall unconscious for the rest of the ride. Maybe even the rest of the trip, if the rain doesn’t let up.
(Oh, I’m kidding. Once we can STOP DRIVING the rain isn’t a big deal. All of these near-death road experiences will totally be worth it when we’re on our 83rd game of Yahtzee, I feel sure of it.)