I'm sitting on a plane to Philidelphia.
Sin ninos. Chile con queso. I like to practice my Spanish now and then.
Trey and I were graciously invited to attend the Annual CCEF Conference this year with his parents. I'm so excited to get away with Trey for the weekend I can barely stand it. I'm dreaming of hours of talking and reconnecting.
Before we left, Trey downloaded the audiobook, Brothers Karamazov by Dotchievsky (or something like that), onto his iPod. It's like 40 hours-long so I'm thinking he may not share my sentiments. Every once in a while, when he's thoroughly engrossed, I like to mouth words to him. He pauses the story, removes his earphones, and politely says "what?", just in time for me to say, "Oh, nevermind.". Actually, that little trick only worked once. Now, he's just ignoring me.
The conference is on addictions within the church. As I sit typing furiously away on my blackberry, nursing my second Diet Coke of the morning, I'm once again reminded that there are no coincidences with God. The Lord may have some help because our flight attendant just shared with me that it's possible to kill a mound of fire ants with just a little Diet Coke.
"Now, honey, what do you think that's doing to your brain?"
"I don't know but can you just hand it over? I don't like to put my blackberry down any longer than I have to."
I didn't really say that.
The kids are in the very best care a mani/pedi can buy: Hannah. She picked them up for school and looked ready for the weekend. She was wearing pleated khaki pants, an embroidered Thanksgiving sweater, comfortable shoes and had her hair cut into a practical mom-bob.
Oh, I kid.
Unfortunately, she did have to drive my car which is considerably dirtier than hers.
At least if they all were stranded in the middle of no where - totally possible in Dallas - they could survive on crushed Cheese Nips for about a week.
It's what I like to call justification.
I can't wait to tell you about our trip and about everything that got broken while we were gone.