We've just spent thirteen
The hotel room that I am sitting in right now does NOT smell like propane gas.
I cannot say that about the first room they put us in, however. It smelled like an explosion waiting to happen when we walked into the first room they assigned us, and thankfully my husband is a strong man who isn't afraid to march right back into a dimly lit office and demand a room that won't, oh you know, kill us while we're sleeping or something. We are paying for this room after all, and we'd prefer the non-death option, if it's not too much trouble.
We are comfy and together, and so this little room still manages to feels like home somehow. Chris went out to get us dinner, and Ezra is busy getting his cars acquainted with every drive-able surface area he can find within reach. Things are good.
We are still twelve hours from home, and if they are anything like the last twelve, I will spend much of the time looking out the window at the blurry landscape and begging it to tell me where I am going, and who the heck I will be when I finally get there.
If life were a game of Pin-The-Tail-On-The-Donkey, I would be in the blindfolded, disorienting, 'spin in circles' phase. I'm so ready to stick that pin in the donkey's butt... to really STICK IT TO HIM, you know? ... but I don't even know if he's in front of me or behind me.
I'm sorry. That's the travel weariness talking. Donkeys? Metaphors about life involving Donkeys? What the??
To our dear family that we've recently parted from: We miss you and love you and are seeing your faces ever before us as we make our way slowly home. Thank you for all you've done for us these past two months... you've blessed us more than we could ever say.