Geographically challenged.

Here is a little tid bit from my mama. Hope you like the early week update:

Mornings, as I am sure you have gathered, are pretty hectic at our house. Once in a while, we get off schedule. Last Wednesday was one of those days. If Amy took the little ones out to Beth’s, she would be late. I offered to swap with her, she could take the girls to school and I would take the ride out to Beth’s. I had done it twice already with a lovely map drawn by John. No problem, even for someone as seriously geographically challenged as me. HA!

John helped me get the car seats transferred and kiddies buckled in; we strapped everyone into their respective rides, and I was ready to go. Wy was not happy when Daddy headed back toward the house. He was screaming bloody murder in the back seat to make his dissatisfaction as clear as possible. This was par for the course, and the last time we did this, I had bribed the kiddies with McDonald's hash browns at the start of the drive. I commented to John out the window that I might find myself compelled to do it again this trip..

Off we went. We came to the fist stop light and my lovely little map betrayed me by sliding off the passenger seat and onto the floor board. Ok, I remembered as far as I-70, and I knew to take I-435 N, so I didn't stop. By the time we got to the McDonald’s, Wy was calm, the kiddies were chatting, so we just kept on truckin.

Well, I got to the first exit and then second exit, but somehow I missed the exit to get off the interstate. I turned around somewhere close to Parkville, retrieved my map and reached for my phone – which was right by my computer where I would not forget to pick it up on my way out of the house. Ok, I could just read the map backwards and get where I need to go, right? HA!

I wandered all over the countryside, trying to get to Beth’s. The actual address was not on the map. My phone was not in the car. I didn't have a clue WHERE I was. After at least a half-hour of driving back and forth, up and down, in and out of these dirt roads, and me getting more and more frustrated, Jack asked, “Where is Beth’s house?” I replied I don’t know Jack, I’m lost.”

“No, Gammy, you are not lost. No, Gammy, you are not sad.” This was Jack’s mantra for the next five minutes. Finally, I saw a little cemetary with some groundskeepers working there. I pulled over and asked a nice young man where to find Hollingsworth. He told me how to get there (it was really fairly easy – go figure). I was finally feeling much better and as we turned the car around Jack said, “Gammy, where's my hash browns?”