We had planned on going to see the salmon, and actually made it 3/4 of the way there, and all heck broke loose in the car. Brian didn't want to go, so he was making comments every few minutes. The two younger boys were fighting over--well--everything! The puppy was in the mix, the air conditioner wasn't working, and the Dad was fed-up. So he turned around and headed back home. When Monkey figured out where we were going, he screamed, cried, kicked, and screamed some more. I had to climb over the seat and threaten bodily harm to get him to stop, and then he still carried on for longer.
I swear, most road trips someone ends up in tears, and it's usually me. I get so frustrated. We have one of the largest vehicles and yet there's never enough room for everyone. Someone is always in anthers space.
So our salmon trip? Never happened. And I'm not sure we're going to end up trying another road trip anytime soon.
And I'm in a funk. I'm not feeling it right now. I almost feel a little post-partum, and my youngest is 7. Can post-partum be delayed? Maybe someone can get a grant and research that for me. Inquiring minds want to know.
For now, I'll leave you wit a bit of inspiration...made entirely from Jelly Belly's. Who knew Benjamin Franklin was so delish?
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