My Old Kentucky Home

Well, I never lived there, but we're headed out tomorrow morning for a real, actual vacation. A whole week's worth. At my mom's farm in Kentucky. For a week. Seven days. About 25% of a month. The tinge of stress you see coming through the keyboard is sympathetic. I, personally, can't wait. I think my mom is fun and cool. The children will get to visit with their Gigi (G-G standing for Great Grandmother, how cool is that?) Their Aunt Susie will be there, which may be the most exciting part of it all for the kids, because they adore her with every fiber of their being. Their Uncle John and Aunt Melinda will be there, and there is just no such thing as not having a thoroughly good time with those two around.

I think it just boils down to "You're supposed to be stressed out when you visit your in-laws." I don't know why. Jeff is so laid back and friendly. I think he still harbors resentments from the time my mom, upon hearing that Jeff cooks with Adobo, "informed him" that Adobo has more salt than salt itself. Whatever. It tastes good. Let it go. To even the playing field, Jeff had a very good point when he called my mom out on thawing frozen raw chicken in a cooler filled with ice water and cans of soda.

So, wish us luck as we motor 12 hours across the country. You know what the #2 thing the kids are really excited about regarding this trip? Well, we're not going to drive the twelve hours straight through. We're going to stop over in Lexington, Kentucky and stay at a "ho-and-tell." They're totally psyched about the swimming pool, cruddy delivery pizza, and late night TV. Actually, so am I.