Friends

Because 46 is apparently awesome

So today is my birthday. I am 46 years old. And I’ll be honest, it feels weird to be officially closer to 50 than to 40.

But last Sunday night, Gulley and I took the kids to watch a Texas A&M soccer exhibition game against Sam Houston and we saw our dear friend, Tiffany. She remarked, “You have a birthday coming up!” I replied, “Yes! And you just had one. Can you believe we’re 46 years old?” and she smiled really big and said, “YES! Isn’t it awesome?”

And I thought to myself, “Okay. So this is what we’re doing with 46. We’re declaring it to be awesome.” So I’m going to go with that. Forty-six is awesome.

(Of course Tiff is such an optimist that you could find yourself on a sinking ship with her and she’d exclaim, “Fun! Looks like we’re going to get to go swimming!”)

Anyway, way back in the early, early years of this blog, Gulley made a list of things she loved about me and posted it for my birthday. And earlier this year she told me it had been ten years since that list and she wanted to do another one for my 46th birthday. It feels a little strange to post a list of things that someone loves about you, but considering she essentially let me tell a whole bunch of our stories in a book about friendship, I can publish this list for her. I’ll also give you my opinion that she has made me sound much better than I actually am, but that’s what best friends are for.

And now, here’s Gulley’s list that she emailed me last night. (True story, it made me cry.):

1. She’s funny.
2. She’s creative and will share her skills with you.
3. She’s the most loyal person I know.
4. No matter what high or low she is feeling, somewhere in every single conversation she says, “So tell me about YOU!”
5. She shares all her beauty products so you don’t have to spend money trying.
6. When you go to her house, not only does she have all your favorites, she improves on them. For example, “If you put that chocolate chip cookie in the microwave for 11 seconds, it’s so good!”
7. She will invite you over for wine and present the most beautiful charcuterie tray you could imagine.
8. She’s protective over her relationships in big ways and small.
9. She makes time to be with her people.
10. She’s humble.
11. If you even casually mention you’re looking for something she will send you 18 links to that thing and help you find the perfect one.
12. She would never post a bad picture of you on the internet.
13. She loves my boys like they are her own. She makes great effort to know them as individuals by discussing the spurs, MLB, and all kinds of things they want to discuss.
14. After spending all day at soccer she comes to watch them play baseball.
15. She’s the most fun person to watch football with.
16. If she can’t take your call she will text to say why. “In carpool line” with multiple heart emojis.
17. She makes me smarter.
18. We have deep spiritual discussions and I know when she says she’s praying for me she means it.
19. Because we live in close neighborhoods we will sometimes see each other while we are driving. We get so excited and wave like crazy.
20. She helps me clean out my closet.
21. She acts like she likes it.
22. For YEARS she picked up my boys from school two days a week. This was not a carpool. I had a need and she filled it.
23. She never once acted put out.
24. One time on her way back into town I called her in tears because one of my boys got a fever 15 minutes before I was hosting the other boy’s birthday party. She came straight to my house and took care of my SICK BABY so I could take seven 3rd graders to a hockey game.
25. She’s our emergency contact.
26. She can laugh at herself.
27. She never flakes on our weekly lunches.
28. Her emoji and gif use is brilliant.
29. She encourages me to rest.
30. Whenever I say,”I feel fat!” She says, “Nobody’s cuter than you!”
31. She’s always up for an adventure even though my child has thrown up in her car 400 times.
32. Her vocabulary is so intelligent and sometimes I have to look up words she says in a dictionary after talking to her.
33. She always drives.
34. She’s always up for one more splash.
35. She’s not easily offended.
36. She knows how I’m feeling based on my tone during one-word interactions. “Well.” “Ok.”
37. The only thing bigger than her sense of humor is her heart.
38. She gives great advice.
39. She always gives a good reaction to my hurt feelings. “WHAT!?! NO! That is why I do not like them anymore!”
40. She’s an encourager.
41. She takes my job at preschool as serious as her job as a writer.
42. Every once in a while we call each other and say, “You ARE the bigger person!” Because the thing about being the bigger person is that no one ever recognizes it.
43. I always feel better after spending time with her.
44. When she cooks something I like she either brings it over or she calls and tells me to stop by and get some.
45. She has adopted my extended family.
46. Because news isn’t news until I’ve shared it with her!

Happy Birthday, Mel!!

Okay, this is Melanie again. I went back through my archives to find Gulley’s original list and only at that moment realized she actually did the first list for my 37th birthday. So that’s another reason we’re best friends. Neither of us is very good at math. But 46 is the new awesome so there’s that.

The non-definitive guide to a summer road trip

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One of the questions I get asked the most is about the road trips Gulley and I take each summer with the kids. Some of them are regarding our basic sanity, but I won’t get into specifics there because I think the fact that we load up the car with our kids each summer speaks for itself. Clearly, we are not quite right in the head.

But several people have also wanted to know how we do it and various specifics. I can only assume this is because you are pondering this type of trip for you and someone you don’t mind spending a week with under sometimes stressful conditions where kids think it’s a good idea to wrestle on a hotel bed and knock over their mother’s glass of wine after a long day of summertime fun.

The first road trip Gulley and I took with the kids was in the summer of 2007. Our crew looked like this:

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And this:

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Because rule #1 is you always have to stop at Dairy Queen.

But there is so much more to our road trips than just the occasional DQ Blizzard. I hereby give you my non-definitive guide to a summer road trip.

1. Find a friend who is willing to do this with you.

Preferably someone with a high tolerance for shenanigans and who won’t judge you if you threaten at some point during the trip to drop all children off at a fire station to see if they can be placed for adoption.

Also, you need to find someone who doesn’t have too many kids. This is crucial because there is only so much room in the car for the children and the stuff.

Exhibit A:

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I may be willing to hit the road for a week and test the limits of my patience, but I’m not doing it without my favorite pillows.

2. Choose the best vehicle for your travels.

Gulley and I have historically always taken her car on road trips because it’s the biggest. Plus, her youngest son, Will, is the most likely to throw up and it’s always more comforting to have a child throw up in the car you’ve paid for instead of your friend’s car.

However, there was a time Will threw up in my car and Gulley showed up at my house the next day with a gift card for a complete detailed car wash even after she’d scoured it from top to bottom looking for signs of throw up. That’s the sign of a good friend.

3. Pack plastic bags, wet wipes, and paper towels.

Road trips present many opportunities for carsickness and/or food poisoning. One of our lowest road trip moments was the summer of 2010 when Will got food poisoning at The Great Wolf Lodge in Dallas and we had to make the three hour drive to Gulley’s mom’s house in Bryan while he threw up at 15 minute intervals in a plastic sack. This was the trip we learned that you can never have too many plastic grocery sacks.

It’s also the trip where we learned we can still eat beef jerky and sing along to Taylor Swift even while someone is puking in the background.

And, finally, it was the trip where Jackson and Caroline honed their Buccee Beaver impersonations.

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That’s what really matters.

4. Have a loose plan

This is crucial. The first year we took the kids on a trip, we just went to Bryan to visit Gulley’s family. But we enjoyed it so much that we officially decided to make it an annual tradition. The road trip is ultimately our way of bringing a little old school Americana into our kids’ lives. The open road, the carsickness, playing the license plate game, and arguing over whose foot just touched yours in the back seat. We always want it to be more about the journey than the destination, kind of like life.

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Here’s our philosophy. We keep it simple. The road trip is never about exotic sightseeing, unless you count the Snake Farm in New Braunfels. In which case, ACES.

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Every year after the road trip is over, we immediately begin to discuss where we might want go the next year. And we include the kids in the discussion even though we have ultimate veto power because, as much as we appreciate their input, it’s impossible to drive to Australia.

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As of now, we’ve always kept our trips in the state of Texas. This works out because Texas is a very large state and there is plenty to see within its borders. Also, we happen to have a lot of friends and family scattered around and this usually gives us a convenient (free) place to stay on occasion.

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We have gone to Dallas, Austin, Houston, Waco, Bryan/College Station and various locales in between. We’ve gone to the Dallas Zoo, ridden public transportation as entertainment, stayed at the Great Wolf Lodge, tried to ensure a future of chiropractic treatments at Six Flags in Dallas, “enjoyed” the Children’s Museum in Waco, bought 84 pounds of beef jerky at Buccee’s, walked all over the Texas A&M campus, cheered at Bombers baseball games, touched stingrays at the Houston Aquarium, eaten giant snow cones at an Astros game, visited the Baylor Bear, recorded our very own Call Me Maybe video, seen the Longhorns football stadium (sacrilege!), swam at the Flying L water park in Bandera, toured the Texas Capitol Building, and gone to the Texas State History Museum where Jackson learned it’s a bad idea to shove your mother’s face into the exhibit that demonstrates how sulphur smells coming out of the ground. (We blame budding hormones and incomplete frontal lobe development for that misstep.)

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Along the way we’ve stopped at a Snake Farm, glass bottom boats, Barton Springs, a gas station/dance hall owned by Willie Nelson, several bakeries that sell kolaches, too many Dairy Queens to count, 6,075 public restrooms and 5,462 QuikMarts/7-11’s/Stop-N-Go’s. We’ve sang too loud, argued too much, passed some gas, thrown up on our neighbor and laughed enough to make it all worthwhile.

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It’s all about taking our time and being flexible enough to pull the car over when someone says, “Hey! We’re in Waco! Let’s go see the Baylor Bear!” or “Mom! I need to go to the bathroom again!”.

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Bottom line, I do not recommend this type of road trip for those who may be Type A personalities and insist on a tight, well-scheduled agenda. It’s a recipe for a meltdown.

5. Never underestimate the power of a good playlist.

Sometimes, just when you think you’ve reached the end of your mental rope, your best friend and co-pilot will put on Bon Jovi’s Living on A Prayer and you’ll decide that life is worth living again.

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We usually go around the car and let everyone take turns making song requests, but the moms always have the right to veto a song choice if the thought of listening to Little Big Town sing Boondocks one more time is going to cause a grownup to assume the fetal position for the rest of the day. Same goes for Taylor Swift, specifically You Belong to Me. However, if a mom would like to listen to some old school Bobby Brown songs a few times in a row, then it’s her prerogative.

6. Splitting costs and staying within a budget.

I’m sorry if this led you to believe that we make any sort of spreadsheets or pie charts. See above about Type A personalities. It just means that we do try to keep things fairly inexpensive. Last summer we finally caved and did Six Flags and that’s probably the most expensive thing we’ve ever done, but we felt like the kids are now old enough to appreciate it.

The year we went to Great Wolf, our friend AJ had won some passes so that was inexpensive with the exception of the food that gave us food poisoning once we got there. And then we try to look for passes or coupons for other things we may want to do. The good news is that riding the elevator up and down in the hotel is free. As is trying on sunglasses at Target.

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Speaking of hotels, we always have good luck with Priceline. You can search according to how nice you’d like your hotel to be and the price you’re willing to pay. Some cities have more to choose from than others, but we’ve always found a decent deal. It also became apparent last summer that the five of us can no longer pile into one hotel room because everyone just keeps getting bigger and more aware of concepts like modesty and personal space. But we did one room for a long time and just brought along a sleeping bag and requested a rollaway for our extra person.

As for other costs, Gulley and I just do our best to split everything down the middle. There again, there is no exact formula. She pays for gas one time and I pay for it the next time. One morning she buys breakfast and snacks and the next day I buy lunch and Sonic drinks. We believe it all comes out fairly even in the end. And I also try to keep in mind that any activity is more expensive for her because she has one more kid than I do.

7. Google is your friend

After we determine the main cities we’ll be visiting, we consult the Google to research possible interesting stops between home and our destination. It doesn’t mean we’ll actually stop at all of them, but it gives us an idea of what our options may be.

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This can be as exotic as a gas station that sells tacos or as routine as a McDonald’s with a playground.

8. Brushing your hair is optional.

Exhibit B:

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But in all seriousness, we try to make it feel like a fun adventure. Even though we occasionally have to lay down the mom smack, our goal is to be fun and leave a lot of our normal rules at home. This involves a lot of candy, ice cream as a meal, no set bedtime, swimming late night at the hotel pool, and optional grooming. However, showers and brushing teeth are still required.

9. We’re lovers, not fighters.

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Sadly, this isn’t always true for the kids. Although it is for Gulley and me. However, it stands to reason that time in the car plus tired plus hot plus lots of activity can equal ill tempers. In the case that there are grievances to be aired, we try to opt for the “Y’all need to work it out” method. Sometimes this works and sometimes it leads to more tears and yelling.

In which case we opt for the “Everyone is going to their separate corners” approach. This is usually about a thirty minute break from each other until we can regain composure and/or not want to “kick someone as hard as I can”. There was also a time when Gulley’s boys pushed her to the edge and caused her to declare she was “on the verge of a nervous breakdown”. At that point we sent her to her room to regroup and offered to let her go get a pedicure.

Desperate times.

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But, in the end, we always do our best to love our road trip neighbor because as Gulley and I continually remind the kids, the road trip will go on even if we have to leave someone with a bad attitude behind.

10. Have fun and make memories.

I’ll be honest. We’ve hit some lows on the road trips. People have gotten on each other’s nerves. Some have overreacted when their song didn’t get chosen as the next one played. Some times kids act ungrateful after their moms have spent a day at a water park being pummeled by waves. It’s real life, but in a car.

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But we’ve achieved our goal over the last seven summers. We have memories that make us howl with laughter. We have pictures that make us smile. We have stories that would make some people want to recoil in horror and fear.

We have logged a lot of miles together and we don’t regret a single one. More than anything, the summer road trip is our reminder that some times the best things in life are the simple things.

And plastic bags from the grocery store.

Blue skies, green water

So I’m sitting here typing this on Sunday night. And tomorrow is the first day of school. I’ve got school supplies stacked up, a new backpack packed, and Caroline’s choice of outfit laid out on the bed. But nothing can really prepare me for the fact that my baby is going to be a fourth grader. I mean, I remember being a fourth grader. I vividly recall getting in trouble for repeatedly singing the Diet Pepsi jingle over and over again with my best friend, Jill, until our teacher suggested that maybe we should sing it in front of the entire class.

She thought we’d be mortified. However, we saw it as an opportunity to entertain the fourth grade masses. I think that teacher retired the following year.

Anyway, fourth grade it is. A whole other side of the elementary school. The big kid side.

But before I lapse into total schmaltz and a few choruses of “Cat’s In the Cradle”, I need to wrap up the summer with a recap of our last week or so.

A week ago this past Friday, I headed down to Port Aransas with five of my friends. We call ourselves Birthday Club. Last summer we spent a weekend at the beach together because my friend, Julie, and I were turning forty. And this year Gulley and our friend, Hillary, turned forty so we felt like this was a good reason to have another girls’ beach weekend.

The good news is Steph will be forty next year. Then our friend, Amy, will be forty the following year. So we have excuses for beach weekends every summer for the foreseeable future. But really the only excuse we need is that we are all mamas that work hard all year round and sometimes a girl just needs to blow off some steam and eat Fritos and bean dip on the beach and rest in the comfort of spending two whole days by the ocean without having to build one, single sandcastle.

We caravanned to the beach and arrived mid-afternoon on Friday. After a quick lunch of fried shrimp baskets (because nothing like some fried shrimp before you put on a swimsuit) we headed to our condo to unpack the cars so we could spend the rest of the day on the beach.

Good thing we packed light.

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And I have to confess these photos only represent about half the stuff we brought. Antoine de St Exupery said, “He who would travel happily must travel light,” but apparently someone forgot to tell us.

We also believe there is no such thing as too many chips. (I believe Gandhi said that.)

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Particularly Fritos or Julios.

(Since I know someone will ask. Julios are the most delicious tortilla chips ever made with some kind of special seasoned salt on them. I’m pretty sure you can only get them in Texas. You have my condolences.)

There was one culinary low point when Amy was eating one of the frozen empanadas that Julie bought at Costco and said, “This is delicious. Is it seafood?” And Julie replied, “No. It’s black bean and chicken.” Is there really anything more concerning than something tasting like seafood when it’s not actually seafood?

So we spent the next forty-eight hours sitting on the beach. We ate too much and laughed too loud and might have even danced to Call Me Maybe like we were fifteen years old instead of forty. It was blissful. And ended all too soon.

But my time at the beach was just beginning because P and Caroline met me on Sunday so we could spend the next few days there as a family. I packed up my stuff, which was significantly less without all the Fritos, and met them at another condo.

Naturally, Caroline wanted to get to the beach right away. I put my suit back on and spent the next few hours digging an enormous hole in the sand while she alternated between supervising (barking orders) and filling it with water so she could make a home for her fish.

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And then she headed out to play in the waves with P, ordering me to make sure her fish had plenty of water because she clearly doesn’t have a good understanding of sand and the way water tends to just get absorbed and how her mother would rather read InStyle than make repeated trips to the ocean with a plastic bucket.

Over the next few days I dug more holes in the sand and we built sandcastles and she and P fished out in the surf while I tried not to think about sharks.

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She also discovered the fun of digging for sand dollars.

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It was the perfect way to end the summer.

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We came home tired and a little sunburned and with sand on every single item we brought with us. And I spent the next couple of days shaking out suitcases and washing swimsuits and thinking about dunking my entire face in a vat of Retin A to get rid of all the sun spots I’ve acquired this summer.

But there was still more fun to be had.

P and Caroline ended up driving back down to the coast to fish with one of his friends on Thursday and Friday. Which meant I had time to get a pedicure and watch forty-two episodes of Parenthood on Netflix.

Meanwhile, Caroline got her first black drum.

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And ate her first meal at The Boiling Pot.

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It was a win for us all.

They got home late Friday night and Caroline was so tired I had to carry her into the house. But she mustered up enough energy to go with P to the Hunters’ Extravaganza on Saturday afternoon. Where she rode a mechanical bull for twenty-seven seconds.

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And had her picture taken with a large sasquatch holding beef jerky.

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It’s really everything I ever imagined for my daughter. Back when I was in fourth grade and watched Urban Cowboy too many times and thought mechanical bull-riding was an actual occupation.

And spent my spare time memorizing lyrics from Diet Pepsi commercials.

There and back again

I’m sitting here on the couch right now and trying to keep myself from eating an entire bag of Lifesavers Gummie Sours. They are my kryptonite.

Actually, they’re only my kryptonite on occasion. I can go months without eating them and then all of a sudden I’m hit with a massive craving and then I’ll eat them until I can’t feel my tongue. I think this particular craving started when I took Caroline into Dylan’s Candy Bar in The Galleria last week and she got some of those rainbow sour belts.

And then I ate them all.

It’s the sour. I love the sour. She also got all manner of gummy alligators and sharks and bears. And I couldn’t care less about those. But the rainbow belts got me. And now I’m about to eat myself into a sugar coma.

Anyway, we had a great time in Houston. We spent the last day at The Galleria looking around but left with nothing but a couple of drinks from Starbucks even though the Starbucks in the middle of The Galleria is the slowest Starbucks that has ever been created and I vow every time that I’ll never stop there again.

And then we went and looked around Kuhl-Linscomb which may be my favorite store ever. If you’re ever in Houston you should check it out. They have everything from books to makeup to bedding that will make you want to hide out until they close just so you can sleep there like those kids did in The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. Except that was in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York but whatever.

(Now I’m also thinking about the book Where the Heart Is when the girl spends every night in Walmart but none of this is important and I could follow this rabbit trail all the live long day.)

On Thursday morning we drove from Houston to Bryan in the middle of a torrential rain storm. It was that kind of rain where you can barely see the tail lights of the car in front of you and I told Caroline I needed her to be quiet so I could concentrate on driving. It didn’t really comfort me when she took that moment to ask if I had ever written out a will. What on earth? Like she was worried if she was going to get the house?

Fortunately the rain cleared up around Hempstead and we made it to Honey’s house just in time for a late lunch. The kids were glad to see each other and I was just glad to be out of the car and not discussing my last will and testament with my child.

And when we arrived I immediately got to hear about Nena’s hair. Gulley’s cousin was getting married on Saturday so Honey had made Nena an appointment to get her hair cut and styled on Thursday and Nena was not happy about this. She exclaimed, “THURSDAY? Oh, my hair will look like hell on Saturday. And you know I hate to use that word but I know my hair.”

Friday was Gulley’s birthday and her husband surprised us with a trip to the spa for massages and facials. Truthfully, I already knew about it but I’d been keeping it a secret for over a week which felt like an eternity because when Gulley and I were both talking about how much we needed a break it killed me not to blurt out “WE’RE GETTING MASSAGES TOMORROW. WITHOUT THE KIDS.”

So that was heavenly. And then we followed it up with a super classy birthday lunch at Wings-N-More because everyone knows a place called Wings-N-More is pretty much the same as a fancy tea room. Meanwhile, Gulley’s husband took the kids to eat lunch at The Dixie Chicken which is an Aggieland landmark for those of y’all who might not be familiar.

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I think it’s safe to say the kids were thrilled by the whole experience. Especially because there’s a real live rattlesnake in a glass cage there and really what goes better with cheese fries than a rattlesnake viewing? J told us the kids said, “This place is COOL. The Moms would never take us here.”

Yes. Mainly because The Moms might have forgotten that the Chicken isn’t just a place to drink beer.

Later that night we all went to eat at Christopher’s for Gulley’s birthday dinner and it was just a great night. We warned the kids on the way over that this wasn’t the type of place where it was acceptable to play the “Who Ate The Burp?” game or to see how many times they could visit the restroom in one meal and they listened to us. For once. In fact, I feel like they embraced their fine dining experience.

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It was a great meal and just a great night. Lots of love all around the table and thankfulness for years of family and friends.

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Saturday morning Caroline and I drove back to San Antonio and I’ve been doing laundry ever since. Except for the two hours when I went to the grocery store to buy food.

And Lifesaver Gummie Sours.

Happy 4th of July

I hope your day was filled with fun and hot dogs and maybe a group jump into the pool.

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God bless America.

If I named this what I’m thinking I would owe Michael W. Smith an apology

So I think I left off with my bangs yesterday.

My bangs that I really like when I take the time to blow them dry and fix the rest of my hair but are currently pulled back in a bobby pin because it was 102 degrees today and I couldn’t deal.

On Tuesday night, while Missy was still at the house and we were evaluating Pinky and Pinky’s cheap sister, Angie dropped by and we decided it might be fun to go toilet paper someone’s house.

(I would say wrap a house. Some people say roll a house. Maybe it’s regional? Or generational? I don’t know.)

Anyway, I can’t really explain why we were so enamored with the idea other than it’s perfectly normal for a bunch of forty-year-old women to load up a twelve pack of Charmin and hit the neighborhood. Initially we were going to wrap our friend Hite, but ultimately decided on our friends Jamie and Trevor because they have three boys ages ten and under and would never suspect us because who does that?

We do.

So we woke up Jen’s husband to let him know we’d be back in a little while after we finished wrapping a house and to his credit he didn’t even question us or our sanity. Then we loaded up in the car, piled the toilet paper in the baby’s carseat and headed out like a group of twelve-year-old girls. Except without all the fake drama.

As we circled the block calculating our plan of attack, Angie voiced a concern that the police might show up and arrest us. But we decided we could explain that Jen couldn’t spend the night in jail since she had chemo early the next morning and a baby waiting for her at home.

Yes.

This is a normal scenario.

Ultimately we parked right in front of Jamie and Trevor’s house and went to work. Sadly, it became evident that our toilet-papering skills weren’t what they used to be. I must have thrown one roll of Charmin in the air fifty times before I could get it over a tree limb.

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(I realize this is a horrible photo but I was scared of getting caught and trying to be very stealth-like.)

Our decidedly un-ninja like skills paid off and we made a clean getaway.

Then we went home and crashed.

The next morning Gulley and I kept Linc while Jen went to chemo and we decided we’d forgotten how exhausting it is to have a one-year-old baby. I’m sad to report that it took both of us to change his diaper even though I tried to be a self-righteous diaper changer and told Gulley, “Here, just let me do it” right before he squirmed out of my reach and crawled his naked bottom away from us as fast as he could. That’s when Gulley looked at me and announced, “It’s only 9:15.”

But Missy showed up to cut my bangs and then our friend Hite stopped by to visit and showed us his car with its new fancy technology.

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Assuming that you time travel back to the early 90s when built-in car phones with a cord were fancy.

Hite helped us load up Linc and we went to lunch so we could visit more and eat this plate of cheese fries.

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Seriously.

Heart attack on a plate.

We felt like it was a developmental milestone to introduce Linc to his first plate of cheese fries. But we made sure he steered clear of the jalapenos.

After lunch we all needed a nap. We put the baby to bed and Gulley and I both collapsed, ready to crash. Unfortunately this was timed with a surprise visit from some of Jen’s relatives who decided to stick around and keep us company and share all manner of theories on life. None of which I really wanted to hear, but felt forced to nod politely instead of saying, “WELL, GOODBYE NOW. I NEED A NAP.”

The good news is Jen made it home from chemo, took a nap and then felt fine the rest of the night. We were able to catch up some more and eat dinner and just enjoy being together. But we refrained from wrapping any more houses.

I told Gulley that night as we crawled into bed that our visit to Dallas caused my inner junior high girl to come out. In the span of twenty-four hours I let someone I barely know cut my hair just because I thought hers looked cute and threw a twelve-pack of perfectly good toilet paper all over a friend’s yard. All I needed was to call someone and hang up when they answered and then unlock my diary and write all about the heartache of seventh grade while listening to Air Supply and the cycle would have been complete.

But more than haircuts or chemo or toilet paper, our time in Dallas was so precious to me. Gulley, Jen and I met over twenty years ago. We’ve been through deaths, births, breakups, marriages, career changes and every other form of drama you can imagine. We’ve laughed and cried and gotten on each other’s nerves and run up phone bills back in the days when long distance calls still existed.

There is something that is indescribable about old friends. You can tell new friends about a story from your past and they may laugh and appreciate it, but the old friends lived it with you. They remember the 1965 Mustang you all had to push across Villa Maria the night it died or that you’ve never been a fan of someone asking how you REALLY are or those ugly red jeans from Express that you never should have worn. You can tell them a story without having to fill in all the details because they know them already. They can look across the table at you and say, “That situation hasn’t changed in twenty years” and make you feel normal because you know they get it. They get you. With all your flaws and quirks and insecurities.

They’re your family when you need a family. Your therapist when you need to talk.

And your co-conspirators when you get the urge to wrap someone’s house.

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