My parents are at the airport as I type this picking up my sister. Catie is napping, so I thought it was best that she and I stay here, rather than wake up a grumpy, under-napped toddler, just to strap her into a car seat for a little road trip out to the glorious Jackson International Airport. (The “international” in that title always makes me giggle. I think there’s maybe one flight a month to Mexico, but I guess that’s enough to qualify as international.)
I’ve warned my parents that they should expect that all of the toddler hugs and snuggles that they’ve been getting for the past week to come to an abrupt end the minute my sister sets foot through the door. Catie adores Tracy (she calls her “Dacy”), and I know she will be absolutely ecstatic to see her.
This evening, Tracy is supposed to go to a little mini-high school reunion of her own, and she’s invited me along since I’ll know a lot of the people there. Most of them graduated with her and are a few years older than me, but it could be fun. The problem is that a lot of them are super-conservative, born-again Southern Baptists. Which means there probably won’t be any alcohol there, and lord knows I’m going to need a drink if I’m going to spend an evening with them and have to keep my big bleeding-heart liberal mouth shut.
I’ll probably go anyway. There will be at least two people there who I don’t get to see often who I really like, plus getting to hang out with my sister is usually pretty fun. And this also means that I’ll get a second use out of The Hot Shirt, because I didn’t pack anything else cute. So I guess that’s good.
Btw, have I mentioned that I miss Dave? Because I really, really do. And so does Catie. Ever since we started letting her talk on the phone with him, she now brings me the phone constantly, asking for Daddy. And when I tell her that no, we can’t call him right now, she cries. Poor kiddo. Oh well, only four more days until Saturday.