My mom and I get along really well. We have fun no matter what we’re doing. Even when we’re not having fun, we end up cracking up. Tonight, she drove over here to pick me up so we could go see “Twelfth Night,” the play Ian has been working on as stage manager. We left in plenty of time. I was driving my mom’s cute little car.
Yet,as we were talking and laughing and talking, talking, talking we still missed a few turns and arrived 15 minutes late. The sign on the door said not to barge in, someone would come get us. We waited and waited for over 30 minutes. No one came. Finally, we grabbed brochures to prove we’d been there and left. It’s pathetic. My mom and I spend a lot of time together, but rarely in the places we intend to be. Ooooo, look a butterfly!!!
As we tried to explain what had happened to Mike and Andy when we pulled into the driveway 90 minutes early, we barely had to say a word and they filled in the blanks. Mike even said “I knew better than to let the two of you go off alone.” If only my sister lived closer – she’s got an actual sense of direction and pays attention to detail. I talked to Ian after the play and explained what had happened and he just laughed and said, “Why didn’t you bring Dad or Andy?” Oh well. Ian wasn’t crushed that we didn’t actually make it to the show, my mom and I did not end up on Ocala or somewhere far, far away from our destination. We had fun. The night was a semi-success, right?