Here’s something you don’t read about every day…

The news, heaven help us, are full of horrible stories.  People killing other people is possibly the worst.  You also read about other types of violence, damage, catastrophes natural and man-made.  Not a day goes by that we don’t hear about some cute video going viral with children (supposedly) spontaneously covering a popular song or doing something tremendously clever or adorable that, of course, the parents just happened to have a camera handy AND READY for…  In our house, any instance of clever or adorable behavior of a spontaneous ilk is usually followed by “the batteries in the camera are dead” or “damn, we should’ve recorded this!!!!”  Forgive me if I doubt the spontaneity of any of those things or if I have chosen to no longer be sucked in by the horrifying events one witnesses in the news.  I am boycotting both cuteness and horror, thank you.

Today, however, we did something that I feel compelled to tell you about because, in a nutshell, it best describes the kind of odd-bird clan we are.  Early this morning, J went to Farmers’ Market with Dada.  I stayed behind showering and getting ready for a short day-trip to a small town in Maryland (about an hour and a half away) where they were celebrating Heritage Days.  TGG stayed behind looking for shaving cream.

We got a call saying “we’re on the way!  Be ready!”  And we were.  By the time Dada and J got home, we were packed and ready to go.  Camera-battery was recharged; bottles of water were ready to put in the van; we were dressed and with one foot out the door.  As J walked in, I could see there was something WRONG about his outfit.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it except to say “he kinda looks like a minister???”

Long story short: J was wearing his shirt backwards.  It was a polo shirt.  Begin, please, the first “what the hell were you thinking” exchange of the day.  How can two adults see J leaving the house and not notice his POLO SHIRT is on backwards????  How can one adult walk around the library, the Farmers’ Market and stand in line at the bakery and NOT NOTICE????

Once the problem was fixed, I sent J and TGG to the car.  There was a lot of eye-rolling involved.

We grabbed the trash bag that needed to go to the dumpster and, without further ado, we left.

Over the hills and through the woods…

There was no cell phone signal, so rather than texting all the way there, TGG was playing with his old-school GameBoy.  Yeah…Pokemon, if I’m not mistaken.  The radio signal was spotty so J would start listening to a rock song and it would switch to country or Christian.  The road was clear, though…nice easy drive…

The weather was positively perfect.  It was hot, but we were dressed for it, and our shoes were comfortable.  The car had had an oil change and drove like a dream…or as much like a dream as a nine year-old van can drive.  There was a crowd milling about town, but we only saw TWO DOGS!!!  A miracle in itself.  J’s shirt was on right-side to front.  TGG wasn’t dressed like a character from Breaking Bad…well, yeah, he was, but not too, too much.

During the time we spent in this lovely little town, we walked around and spent approximately 50¢ in change because every fountain J saw required stopping and dispensing some coins into them.  He also had to sit by them…each and every one.  We were unaware of how many fountains were in this town.  We have been disabused of the notion that there might be ONE in the town square.  We spent a dollar on cotton candy.  Blue cotton candy.  Purchase to benefit the Rescue Mission.  We spent three dollars on a jar of jam.  Parking was free.  We ate at a fast food that we could have stopped at on the way home, down the street from where we live.

We took J’s picture with a statue of a mule and a boy.  J really liked the statue.  In one of the pictures it looks like he’s talking to the mule.  He probably was.  He sat by one of the canals and ate his cotton candy.  He then wanted to leave.  He had seen all there was to see and done all he wanted to do, and he was done.  Hence the hurried lunch in a crowded fast food.

Now, to the part that you don’t read about every day…

You know all those stories about how Spot the dog got left behind at a rest stop and eventually, like four years later, he turned up on the doorstep of the family that missed him?  You know all those stories about how the cat dialed 9-1-1 and rescued its elderly owner who had fallen and broken a leg?  You know how people go to garage sales and buy a 2-dollar painting that ends up being an early Jackson Pollock or Andy Warhol worth millions of dollars???  No, none of those things happened to us…

We walked around this town with J wearing his hats and Slinky.  We sat on the edge of every fountain and fed it a coin.  We bought blue cotton candy from the Rescue Mission and had to persuade J that he was too big for the bouncy house (yeah, there’s a headline for you) or the inflatable slide (HORROR AT THE CARNY!!!!!)  We walked to a statue and took pictures, sat on the edge of a canal and ate cotton candy (well, no, he didn’t share…) and then bought jam and came home.  Nothing truly exciting happened to us.

What happened to us was…

Our trash went on a road trip with us, and came back.

We dropped it off when we got home.

A while back I told TGG “hey, the trash called; it heard about a hopping party in a dumpster downtown and it’s asking if you can give it a ride.”

He’ll laugh tomorrow…maybe…

Right now he and J think we’re just too weird…

 

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