I had flown to Vegas and driven to St. George, Utah to do something for work. I went to a Crossfit gym where I learned about altitude and conditioning. Ironically, I was giving up hard on my workout while Sia’s “I’ve got Stamina” blared. I didn’t. I didn’t have stamina at all. But it was a good trip. I’ve never seen anything quite like the landscape around St. George and I highly recommend that drive. I expected Wile E. Coyote to hop out at any corner. 42 hours had passed from when I left Cottonwood to when I got back.
You’d think not a lot of change would occur in 42 hours.
The first obvious switch up was that we had a wood stove. When I left, 42 HOURS EARLIER, we didn’t have a wood stove. Don’t get me wrong, it’s saved our bacon and I’m very grateful it’s here, but I had no idea we were getting one.
“Surely she’s not going to complain about this or look a gift wood stove in the mouth.”
I’m not at all. Super thankful, just surprised.
The next surprise came as I was unpacking. There were some red smears on the bed sheets. Maybe because I’m a conspiracy theorist, maybe because I’m a social worker, certainly because I’m constantly trying to over parent my boys, I started to ramp up on my agitation. “Did either of the boys have company while I was gone?” I was assuming that the smears were lipstick or something. As I was headed up the tantrum spiral, Brian interjected quickly to show me his THREE new tattoos. This took his tattoo total from 1 to 4.
Again, I was gone 42 hours.
After navigating that weirdness, he told me that we’d have to be up early because he had a surprise.
We woke the next morning and rolled 4 deep in the Megacab pickup southbound on 1-5. Only 1 of us knew where we were headed. Some random park in Woodland was our destination. Some other family was awkwardly lingering. There was some exchange of “You here for the thing?” “Yah. You too?” I still had no idea what was happening. More SUV’s pulled up with more people full of nervous excitement pouring out. Then the dude heavily laden with 3 litters of beautiful lab puppies arrived.
This surprise was a glorious one, but also, 42 hours.
When it was our turn to pick, some yelpy bundle of chocolate fur toddled up to us, dropped the oak leaf he was carrying and yiped at us. Maybe that should have been a warning sign that he’d be loud AF, but we were powerless against the cuteness of it.
Maximus became the 3rd chocolate in my life and the first I got to name. He’s pretty cool but he can’t read a calendar for shit. Which is probably why his Darth Vader breathing self was hovering over me at 4:38 this morning thinking it’s an early gym day. It’s not, Max. It’s Saturday which means back day and no gym till 7 am. You should know that by now.
But my alarm-brador gave me a chance to think about how it was that he joined the scene, and to think about how what can happen when I leave for 42 hours. Bwah ha!
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 