Just back from vacation, and what a vacation it was. It's probably worth more than one blog entry, but I may need some therapy first.
So, the hubby says to me, last Sunday night: "we're leaving in the morning. I want to get an early jump on it, so we're leaving right after rush hour." I inform him that a) there IS no rush hour in the direction that we are going, on the road we plan to drive, and b) I am not in a rush, because we don't have to be anywhere at a certain time and c) (and most importantly) The Brat doesn't wake up happy, when wakened against her will and Monkey Boy doesn't wake up quickly. Therefore, we are probably NOT leaving in the morning. "I want to leave in the morning, I'm going to be ready to leave in the morning, and we ARE leaving in the morning," says the king. "Yeah, right," I think, but of course, do not speak, because it'd be spitting in the wind.
So, he wakes me up at 8:30 the next morning. I get up, get the suitcase (I'm a last minute packer), and pop in the shower. Get out, get dressed, get packed, and look for the van.
"Where is your father," I ask the boy. He mumbles something unintelligible, indicating he doesn't know (I think). I ask the girl, and live to regret it, because I get the full-on, head spinning around, spitting nails diatribe about getting woke up too early in the morning. And I still didn't know where the hubby and my van went. I figured he was going to gas up, and went back to packing. And waited, and waited and waited.
Finally, the hubby gets home, and informs me that he has been to Jiffy Lube, to get a radiator flush and fill, figuring it would help the mild knocking that's been going on under the hood. Informs me that, after paying $188 for a flush, fill, oil change, and God knows what else, they told him that they think that my beautiful Town and Country has a cracked piston rod, or something to that effect, and will need some major work. But, he says, it's ok to take on vacation, and get the work done when we get home.
"Do they realize that we are going to the mountains," I asked, to which the hubby says, with that "what, do you think I'm an idiot" look that only is exchanged from husband to wife, "of course, I did, and they said it will be ok, but to get the work done when we get back." "Maybe," says I, "we should get a rental and just leave it here." "Nonsense," he says, "we're gonna go, and we'll put it in the shop when we get back."
We leave town at 1pm. That, for those of you who are not familiar with Eastern Standard Time, is NOT morning. Definitely not worth waking up The Brat at 8:30 for, because she was still griping. And the boy was complaining, because the air conditioning is also out on my van, which means that we can't really watch DVDs, because the wind noise is a bit much for his viewing pleasure.
Not even out of the city, and I'm regretting this trip already.
So, we get close to Cincinnati, and turn down the odd mix CD that Jill has made -- Maroon 5, Taylor Swift, and Hannah Montana -- and realize that the mild knocking has now become a full blown clatter. Suddenly, the wind catches the van and I realize that a bunch of stuff flew out my window -- 40 dollars that I had made the bad decision to set in my door, and the directions to our hotel in Lexington. Oye and vay, did I ever hear it from the hubby over THAT, but what I was most concerned about was the noise under the hood, and getting it looked at without any bodily harm. We were planning to go to the zoo -- ok, so HUBBY wasn't planning it, but I was, cause it's a nice zoo, and the kids had never been there. At this point, we were close to it, so we dropped off Jill and Seth there, whilst we went in search of a garage. Jill was still griping about us dumping her off in a strange city and why don't we ever do anything as a family when we drove away, and yeah, maybe it IS odd to drop them off at the zoo, but man, I didn't want those kids in the midst of what I knew was gonna happen.
Did you ever have "I told you so" sitting on the edge of your tongue so close that you can not only taste it, but if you stick your tongue out, people can probably SEE it, too? Cause that's where I was at, when the guy at the garage informed us that there was no way that van was going anywhere, cause a piston rod was blown, and we either needed an entirely new engine, or an entirely new car.
Two hours into vacation, and we were already in the hole something like 3-5 grand. Oh yeah, this trip is fabulous. Really. ::sigh:: Typical Utter Chaos.
We got a rental -- hubby hoofed it seven blocks over to Enterprise, just to move it along, so that we could pick up the kids before the zoo closed -- and I sat at Parkway Automotive, downloading ringtones that amused me, like "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)," and "Rehab," (which has lyrics that said "they tried to make me go to rehab, I said no, no, no. I really didn't want rehab. I wanted the drinks. MANY drinks). Got the kids picked up, hit the road -- with air conditioning, but without a DVD player -- and headed for Lexington, with a choir of angels singing, and me thinking "it's gonna take one hell of a lot of patterns to pay for that engine, so Lord, just take me now." So someone, please, go buy some patterns from my store, cause Mama needs a new engine.
Part II tomorrow.