School has been in session for about a month and I have already driven kids back and forth to 22 soccer practices, 15 play rehearsals, 9 swim lessons, 4 guitar lessons, 5 piano lessons, made 60 brown bag lunches, folded 47 loads of laundry, tied 88 soccer cleats and spent $847 at Costco.
I’m running away to Amish Country.
Eight years ago, driving back from Cleveland, OH, after spending Thanksgiving with relatives, the DVD player in the car was broken and the kids were hyped to the max on candy corn. By the time we reached Indiana, I was clawing at the door. I had to get out. I had recently quit drinking and the nail polish remover in my cosmetic bag was seriously tempting. It was dire.
We pulled off the freeway, found a hotel, and splurged for the biggest suite in the place. Upon arrival in our oddly homey accommodations was a sign that read:
No alcohol or tobacco products permitted on site. However, we have 29 kinds of pie. Welcome to Amish Country.