What do they tell the cops when they get there? ”Yes, we called because the lady was having a fit of some kind. No, we weren’t able to keep her here, because Bob gave her his pants.” and “Her description? Well, let’s see, 5’5″, brown hair, glasses, and waving a pair of men’s surf shorts over her head shouting “Different Ones!”… “What’s that officer? Oh. The shorts were red.”
Took the kids to my favorite river a few weeks ago. They got to raft The Ocoee River, and we were there for our Old Timer’s Kayak Trip. The kids can’t conceive it, of course, but their moms and dads used to go to this river every second or third weekend to kayak. Now, we’re all older and the kids’ schedules (not to mention all the other stuff that the years lay at your feet) dictate that we can’t just run off to the river all the time. It’s a seven hour drive, after all. At my peak driving capabilities, that was nothin’. And, if my plans work out and I attend a few conventions with my Hubris Roadshow, then my driving skills will again be honed to a fine edge. Oh, the places that life takes us… or returns us to. With our kids.