Traveling

Leaving: 

-The angst of being a throw-a-toothbrush-in-your-purse kind of packer, married to a take-everything-including-the-kitchen-sink kind of packer.

-Finally leaving the house at 1 p.m. for a 10 hour drive to a time zone where it's an hour later.

-Worrying about the cat.

Being there 1:

-Sitting in a small living room for hours, listening to a woman who talks so much that her husband (the man we're actually related to and there to visit) just tunes out and falls asleep.

-Wondering how so many conversations appeared to become a contest between what her incredibly talented granddaughter had done and what our apparently quite ordinary daughter was accomplishing.

-Thanking some god that we have a daughter who can quietly occupy herself for hours making puffball monsters, while visiting a grandfather who, while a nice man, isn't really interested in her.

Sneaking a family day in between:

-Sleeping in because we don't have to be anywhere that morning.

-Having a belly laugh when our GPS app indicated a report of police in Romulus (MI), and Rob burst out laughing as he wondered aloud about where the Klingon police might be.

-Getting to Ann Arbor early enough that we have to find a small brewpub downtown and have a fabulous lunch with great beer before we can check into the hotel. God I love Ann Arbor.

-NOT letting anyone know we're in town early, and swimming luxurious laps in an empty hotel pool.

Being there 2:

-Sitting again in a somewhat larger living room for hours, talking to my mom and dad.

-Admiring the new bathroom/kitchen on the main floor of the house I grew up in that enable my walking-challenged mom and dad to use the stairs less often.

-Having my mom say "Well, I think it's time to take the fish out of the frig and see how it looks."

-Telling my mom "The fish looks like fish."

-Preparing and cooking the fish, which I really hate.

-Eating a meal of red beets (which I love) and white wine, while being complimented on the fish, being eaten by everyone except for me and Emma.
-Listening to my slightly-tipsy mom tell a great story about when she worked in a lab where an escaped rat kept her company for lunch each day because she felt sorry for him and fed him.
-Really loving that she introduced the story by saying "I had a rat for lunch every day one summer."

-Feeling sorry for my daughter, who is torn between loving being with her Oma, and missing her friends and life a lot at this point in the week.

-Worrying about the cat.

Coming home:

-Having your "pack everything" husband say, while removing an item from the car that was never used, "Gosh, we bring this stuff and then we never use it." 

-Not resisting the urge to say "YOU bring this stuff . . .  "

-Listening to your very hoarse cat, and being sure she's meowed pretty much straight through the week, wondering where the heck everyone was.