Punch drunk

Right now I am sitting in the land of gadget fantasy. Jack and I drove up to Wichita Falls from Houston for the weekend to visit Jack's grandad or as I knew him for the first 27 years of my life, "dad".

I get here and go straight to the tempurpedic mattress in the guest bedroom with a 46" HD flat screen in it. I go to find Noggin for Jack to watch. ( which by the way if you don't have noggin and you have or are planning to have kids.... go for the upgrade!) When I find that the music "channels" on the guide are Sirius XM radio stations! I am seriously on vacation right now.

Today we will probably kick around, eat lunch, and watch football. Tonight I will probably finish the evening in the whirpool with a glass of wine. If only I could get my dad in line to be my conceirge.... right!

For as long as I can remember dad has always had every creature comfort you could imagine. From hypo-allergenic synthetic feather pillows to high thread count sheet to dark chocolate truffles. (so good) Oh and did I mention the jet black 2010 Chevy Camaro SS in the driveway? I didn't get to drive it and probably never will but it was still nice to look at.

With a TV in every room bigger and better than the one before and a back yard that is a pcituresque fantasy I will tell you if I spent more than two days here I would have no will or drive to move or think... just lounge...

Lord knows that I earned it with the trip up here though. I blame myself, really.

I guess I should start at the beginning. Last weekend I attended a baby shower, and inherited all the left over punch as juice for Jack. I don't know if you have ever been to a Southern or I should clarify further a TEXAS baby shower, but they all have the same punch: equal parts ginger ale, equal parts crack. I think it has several pounds of sugar in it, at least.

So tomorrow will be the one week mark that the juice has been sitting in my fridge. After that time the crack reverts back to it's orginal rock form and it's only useful for smoking. Not really into that so I decided to take it with on the 6 hour trip. Bad idea.

Once the liquid crack hit Jack's system he turned into his alter-ego... we will call him cracker Jack. Shaking his head wildly, beating himself with his fist and howling along to the radio...

Any snacks that were passed back to this newly formed heathen were dealt with accordingly. First it was the goldfish, he tooked a few bites and realized that they were not gummy bears and turned the bag upside down next to his carseat into my back seat. So I had a big aquarium of cracker fish swimming around my car for the remainder of the trip.

The cheetos were handled in short order, he ate two and then turned the bag over into his lap.... eating one, discarding one into the floorboard... until those were gone.

Then he got the pretzels... Why do you keep handing him food you silly woman? When you have a howling miniature punch drunk werewolf in your back seat you do what you can to appease the little beast.
So I threw the pretzels at him and he dumped them out into his lap and then got annoyed that he had pretzels in his lap and began scooping them into the backseat with his hand. Then he was upset that he didn't have any pretzels to eat and couldn't reach the now mountain of food in my backseat. So he did what rational, logical almost two-year old would do, he turned the bag of pretzels upside down over his face to see what the hold up was.
Now, if you are familiar with pretzels they have salt and it collects at the bottom of the bag. As you can probably guess, my son got an eyeful of salt. I hate to stop on long trips until it is necessary and this made it VERY necessary.
He screamed in new and creative languages reaching octaves that most seasoned opera singers only dream about. I pulled the car into the closest gas station and wiped his eyes salt free.
After that I think the buzz wore off and he drifted off to sleep. Just then the sun started setting and I turned on some Bob Marley for my nerves. I listened to "Three little birds" with the big pink sky surrounding me.
Order had been restored and everything was right with the world again. And to paraphase I was not worried about a thing and every little thing was all right as I coasted into dad's driveway with my crusty, damp, slightly salty, but sleeping toddler.