Right now, it’s five after midnight (!), and I am working on a packing list. I’m leaving on Monday, and I’m working on a packing list. Did you hear me? I said, I’m working on a packing list. Instead of packing. I have lost my mind. But there’s just so much stuff that I need on a daily basis to keep Cheeky clean/fed/entertained/ healthy/happy - and therefore, me less stressed - I have to make this list or I’ll forget something crucial to my survival, my avoidance of a meltdown.
Sure, I know, there are stores in Hawaii. I don’t have to pack all this stuff. But the last thing I want to do is spend precious vacation time driving around, going to the grocery store, when I could be enjoying myself on the beach with a full-sugar soda.
So I’m working on the ding dang list.
I have to bring everything in the world on vacation to keep Monkey Man entertained. I don’t want him going ballistic on me. Especially on the plane. Otherwise, everyone will hate us and try to have us kicked off.
Things For Me To Look Forward To:
- Turning into a pack mule from carrying a mall on my shoulders and back
- Changing my name to Quasimoto, since lugging around all that stuff will bend my spine in three places
- Since I’m sure our gate is the one waaay at the end, and I’m still carrying all that stuff, I’ll be sweating like a pig roasting on a spit
- The relief I feel when I get to the gate is immediately wiped away when I notice people eyeing my kid, hoping they’re not sitting anywhere near us
- Stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff, stuuuuuff
(Breathing into a paper bag)
Packing List + Jennifer = BFF