There are many things about a trip to Texas that are awesome. There is family and laughter. Fart jokes and tequila shots. Texas Gold-n-Cheez day glo crackers and Mrs. Baird’s powdered donuts. They are unparalleled in softness and lack of chemical aftertaste you know.
There is the requisite trip to the King Ranch Saddle Shop. As my mom and sister and I stood on the threshold to the shop we exhaled in unison. Once we crossed over into the bliss we inhaled as deeply as possible in order to properly take in the glorious scent of leather. Please do not be offended my bovine loving friends.
My brother and his fiancé had their first wedding shower hosted by my parents. They received everything from A-Z, literally. It was an ABC shower. It was an impressive haul to begin their married life.
We enjoyed dinner on the bay. The food everywhere was fantastic. I wore flip flops for a week! In February! A pedicure made it even better.
Of course, a trip is never complete without a few snags. It started with reserving the wrong hotel. Not a huge issue but it messed with our schedule and our trip mojo. A near huge fucking catastrophe was standing at the ticket counter the next morning at 4AM. We have traveled for years on Southwest Airlines using the military discount. Last Friday they decided that reservists didn’t deserve that privilege anymore. For shits sake, Alan travels at least once a month on this fare. I have used it multiple times. But that ticket lady wasn’t having it. I spent several tense moments on the phone with Alan and valiantly trying to hold my ground at the counter. I refused to budge. We went round and round in circles for 30 - 40 minutes. Alan is making calls. I’m trying to keep myself together.. They finally tell me I can go. I immediately burst into tears. Composure flew out the window. The agent that had been arguing with me hopped over the scale to give ma a hug and apologize . In my devolving and bewildered state, I lacked the processing power to ask WTF?
The highlight of our trip occurred the last night. Ready? Jack fell off of a stool onto a brick patio and conked his noggin. Holding him I realized he was bleeding from a lovely gash in the back of his head. Time to find a doctor. Pee, hope in the car, grab a towel, and go. Quite a few tears later we have a head with 5 staples, a mom finally exhaling, a Naner with a headache, and an overwhelming need to get the hell out of Texas and go home. Yee Haw!
Until next time…