When I was ...fifteen? my family went on an RV trip across the country. I remember driving thru Wyoming in the middle of a lightning storm and I had never seen anything like it. My mom was nervous and my dad was excited, even talking about stopping the car and getting out for a better view. We didn't stop but our faces were pressed to the windows, eyes darting around.
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...I'm not sure why I'm blogging this. Maybe because we just celebrated Father's day and, honestly, I suck at being a good daughter on Mother's and Father's day. I'm close to my parents and don't think any damage is done, but I still feel guilt.
What does this have to do with Wyoming?
*SHRUG*
It was a fun trip! We made up songs (with potty humor, of course) and I STILL imagine sitting in the RV with big-brother, Colton, every time I hear the song "Train Going South" by Peter Breinholt. After 2 weeks we arrived home and though we got along great, we all had to just spread for a while to regain some personal space.
Maybe that's it. On Mother's and Father's day I just ache a bit, missing my brothers and parents. This isn't a woe-is-me-I-hate-me-life kind of rant. I like my life! But not everybody has a family they miss at times. ...It's pretty cool actually. I'm a lucky girl.
P.S. I had the kids help decorate a shirt for Mike. Brenda said "Happy Father's Day Dad!", Suzi said "Mike is the BEST!" (that was odd) and Garret slept soundly all day.
It was nice.
