I've already told you about my boy being gone. I've already told you about missing him. I'll try not to repeat myself too much.
It's strange having only two children around here. The house stayed cleaner.
Our children's museum experience last week included a lot less running from one exhibit to another, chasing our five-second-attention-span-flutterbudget than usual and a lot more parking on a bench outside the play grocery store for two hours while the focused-Flyss-miss went 'shopping'.
The slower pace and the lack of toys to trip-over wasn't enough to keep me from missing my boy.
See the dark circles?
I was driven to the edge.
I had to DO something.
So, call me crazy, but I agreed to accompany my mom to deliver a fiberglass sculpture to St. Louis for my dad. Mom, Kit-kat, Jax, Bee, Pip and I took off for Missouri.
Things tend to happen on a journey like this. We would expect nothing less from
an epic journey through time and space.
Funky things happen on the road. There's an enormous potential for minds being lost, epic fuel bills, more rest-stops than journey, wishing for food not from a drive-through, hearing "Are we there yet?" for the gazillionth time, and fighting because of not enough space.
The colors change. We fast-forward through several decades of color-schemes.
Luckily they look better in the morning.
Sometimes when country comes to town things get messy and confused.
But that's what happens when you take my T-boy away from me. There's just no telling what lengths I will be driven to when my mama-homing-device goes off.
Use your noodle, I've really been missing my son.
But maybe I said that already.
Using My Noodle (on occasion) In NEYou might, for instance, think you are going to St. Louis and then straight home again. But you might end up going to Texas.Okay, not really. Things just start to look funny when you get really tired.