The Fish Stays in the Picture #1

The best wife ever took the best kids in the world on a road trip last week to South Dakota, along with her mom and sister and her sister's son. I, sadly, had to work and missed out on the untouchable joy of a 12 hour road trip with 4 women in 3 generations and two three year old boys.

I wallowed at home, sleeping at my leisure, enjoying long stints of uninterrupted yardwork, taking long runs in the mountains, and remembering how smoothly life goes when there are no kids. Here was one evening's itinerary:

7:11:00- Decide to see a horror movie that starts at 7:35.
7:11:15 - Leave the house.
7:24:00 - Arrive at Chipotle.
7:26:00 - Start eating
7:31:00 - Finish my burrito (a rate of roughly 220 calories per minute)
7:36:00 - Arrive at theatre

It was rough.

Actually, I'm being sarcastic, but I'm also not, because it actually was rough. I'm fully into the role of dad and husband now. My family is my structure, and without structure I slouch like a some kind of blobby animal without a skeleton. Like a slime mold. I had no idea what to do with myself most of the time. I aimlessly surfed the internet. I went to bed too late. I woke up too late. I constantly stopped what I was doing because I thought I heard Nora crying in the other room. I ironed badly. I ate 85% french fries.

I was relieved to get my family back, because it felt right, and although it was busier, I could finally relax.

While on the trip, Pete went fishing for the first time with his great-grandpa Hub. Apparently, the boys' enthusiasm waned markedly after they caught an ugly, scabby, half-eaten fish. But Hub was intent on getting pictures of everyone with the fish, so he kept sneaking it into pictures already in progress.