Toilet Paper

This weekend the kids and I ventured north for a "weekend of fun". With a cousin working at Hearst Castle, we were able to get tour tickets during a very busy time. Plus the idea that we'd be seeing baby seals excited everyone. Sort of.

Here was the plan. I leave Thursday afternoon driving with two kids in my volvo station wagon (hey, it ain't a minivan!), brave San Diego traffic (which isn't scary in the least bit), and then completely miss the evils of LA rush hour (why do they call it rush HOUR?). Then we'd stay in Heuneme. Friday we would drive to Santa Barbara pick up Steve at the airport then drive north to San Luis Obispo meeting up with my in-laws, and their cousin(s).

All this would eventually take place, but between me and this fabulous weekend was LA traffic. Describe? Hmm, not much going on, sitting on an 8 lane freeway, not really moving. Two kids watching movies, the occasional motorcyclist toying with life (aka dodging cars). Yup, not much going on. Until suddenly traffic clears (for no apparant reason), and everyone's suddenly doing 85. That of course is when the kid movies end and the little ones would like new movies. I'm sure I've been more frightened driving at some point, but really I'm not sure when.

Get to the point you must be saying. So, after four and a half hours, we made it to our hotel. My daughter informs me (as she always does), that she needs to go pee pee. Thankfully we were just unloading the station wagon (like I said, it ain't a minivan!). We quickly got inside our lovely hotel room (really it was super nice!), and my daughter made her mad dash to the potty. With no time to spare she sighed heavily and gave the pee pee shiver. Once finished, she grabbed far too much toilet paper (as is her habit), and proceeded to inform me that "this toilet paper is plastic!" Yes honey, it is plastic. Get used to that chafing while away from home--it will be your constant companion.

One day, when my kids go off to college and remember the gentle feeling of the tp their mom always stocked, they think fondly of me. Maybe even enough to forget the other times or places where I failed them.