The kids are having a ball on the way to Grammy and Grampy’s. They are watching Woody Woodpecker, a DVD from the library. They’ve never seen Mr. Woodpecker, and Seth, for one, thinks he’s hysterical.
Uh-oh. I’ve been spotted.
Fine. I’ll take a pic of HT. This is his, “What is wrong with you? Why do you have to take my picture while I’m driving?” expression.
Oh HT. Lighten up. I showed him this next one, and mentioned the chin situation.
You know what he said?
I’m not going to tell you but it wasn’t nice. He’s a mean, mean man.
There, that’s better.
Jingle was oblivious to all our shenanigans. Here she is, tuning us out. Hoping she’s not going to yet another home. We are the fifth in her short life.
Off to Endicott, NY.
Now, between you and me, because we’re so close, I have a confession to make. When we tell people we are going to NY for the holidays, they automatically assume NYC. Endicott is more rural than all of that. It is three hours north of the city. It is a small town. But when people assume we’re off to NYC, they get a little reverent. Like we’ve just jumped a notch in sophistication in their eyes. NYC is not my favorite city. It overwhelms me. It intimidates me. It is big, and loud. And intimidating, did I mention intimidating? Anyway, when people assume we are going to NYC for the holidays, and they get that sincere look in their eye, I just go ahead and let them think it. I’m all about appearing sophisticated.