Saturdays

I have BIG problems with Saturdays. I am a let's-get-er-dun kind of person, and my other 5/6's are a let's not kind of persons. So, on some Saturdays I am up like a drill sergeant yelling orders and commanding 50 situps for the last person ready. Other mornings I drink my coffee and yell orders at myself to sit and relax, all the while working up bad stuff inside as I look around at the kitchen walls, the ceiling, the floors, the book shelves. And SOME mornings my family dresses me, puts the keys and my purse in my hand, and sends me off so they can have peace.

THIS MORNING, we ALL got up around the same time, had a leisurely breakfast, some visiting, and then ALL headed out the door, cause... my car had died on the road coming home last night. And you know what? I kindof liked having a dead car. It gave purpose and meaning to my morning and the other 4/6 (we had two gone and had gained one child) felt like they had purpose and meaning, and WE WERE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE FOR THE FIRST SATURDAY IN A LONG LONG WHILE! Sad isn't it.
It takes death to bring us all together.

On another note, I talked to my eldest who is on her road trip with her grandparents and cousin, and she promised me a blog today sometime. Only it won't include Cracker Barrel. I am a little disconcerted. My dad must be really sick. If you ever go on a trip with my dad, he will almost never stop to eat, UNLESS it is a Cracker Barrel. I have begun to think he owns stock in them. So I am interested in why he chose another joint. (He's been sick, so I am wondering if the girls ganged up on him and he was too sick to defend himself.)

UPDATE:  I talked to my dad and the girls DID gang up on him.  He was so sick he couldn't fight back,  but he said he would NOT be stopping where the girls suggest anymore.  It's Cracker Barrel all the way home.  I feel like  better now. 

thanks for reading,

Reb