At this very moment, I am yelling, “Pipe down!” to the crew in the backseat.
And opening the 57th stick of beef jerky for the same crew.
And searching my purse frantically making sure I remembered to pack my Prozac.
Because Day 1 of We Are Family has officially started. And I already am on the verge of a panic attack.
This morning started off with a mad rush of throwing clothes in a suitcase that I knew I really wouldn’t want to wear once next Monday comes, and packing up all the junk food fodder I could find in the house.
Then it was off to the dentist. Ick. And hairapy. Yay. And then I had my waxing lady who speaks no English take my one eyebrow back down to two. Ouch.
After the husband got home from his ½ day of work, we set out to meet the rest of my family for our
big lapse in judgment when we planned this crazy outing of togetherness roadtrip.
We met up at Chic-Fil-A, which is always delightful, I must say. I found out the sad news today that the little piece of chicken coop heaven isn’t found on the West Coast, and I actually mourned for you Westies. Because you don’t know what you’re missing. And it makes me sad for you. Truly sad.
And now we’re in the car. Somehow Kirk and I got lucky enough to get the van with all the boys. While my sister is riding in the lap of peaceful luxury with my parents and my niece. How this happened, I have no idea, but I am joyfully awaiting the jewel in my crown that is deserved for such a feat as this.
Look at these angels. They could never cause any trouble, you say.
Uh huh. Sure. Okay.
And so we drive.
And eat our 58th stick of beef jerky.
I’m now in what just might be the grossest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. Seriously. Waiting for the roach to crawl across the toe of my high heeled shoe. Sorry. I digressed into a Fancy moment.
I guess it isn’t that bad, but I’ve become somewhat of a hotel snob since the husband has been carting me around to hotels which decorate with bamboo. This is what I get for PriceLining.
I might be a teensy bit more upset about my sleeping conditions, but I just can’t stay upset for very long. Because my belly is fat and full of what just may have been the most delicious food I’ve tasted in awhile. Against Jim-Dad’s urgings to “just find a Golden Corral near the hotel,” we who prefer to make our vacations all about the food steered our herd in the direction of The Old Spaghetti Factory.
And I ate this.
And then we smiled for pictures.
(That's Me and ole' Jim-Dad)
(Mich and Kev)
(Me and my Mama)
And then the overzealous waiter named Tony, who was very excited about his job, sang to Keaton for his upcoming birthday.
And then we smiled for more pictures.
(Kev and Mr. I Don't Smile)
(Grammy and Kayla)
(Jordan and Tate)
And some of us just ate our food.
And then I got us lost while trying to find the hotel. Yes. I had GPS. But, for the record, I never said that I was good at navigating, and never asked to be chief navigator. So therefore, I relinquish all responsibility for the scenic tour through the Nashville ghetto.
And so winds down We Are Family Day 1.
Only thing missing was the Karaoke that Jim-Dad wanted to sing. And I think he just might have been serious.