September 29, 2009 by Marj Hatzell
El Dia De Los Muertos is my thirteenth anniversary. Imagine that! Not that I have triskaidekaphobia or anything, but that IS kinda creepy. You have to admit it. No, really. You have to. As in, I’m forcing you to or else you can NEVER READ THIS BLOG AND THEN NOT COMMENT AGAIN (here’s my lame-O attempt at getting all y’all lurkers to step forward and REPRESENT!).
In honor of our anniversary, and because my sisters are completely insane, we are going away for our fifth-annual “Escape without the children in a feeble attempt to preserve our sanity” weekend. It’s a month early, but HEY! We’ll take it when we can get it. We have about sixty hours to run away, just the two of us! IT’S AMAAAAAAAZING! We eat ourselves silly, talk without being interrupted, soak in the quiet, eat ourselves silly again and sleep, sleep, sleep and sleep. And we sleep and eat. Then we eat. Then we sleep a little more, eat a little more and the drive home, because we miss our boys and even though it was super-tempting to keep driving until we hit Alaska, we knew we’d run out of gas and money eventually or we’d get stopped at the border because I don’t have a passport and the Husband let his expire and we’d never get back in the States and that would be bad, because then we’d be arrested for abandonment and my sisters would get pissed and NEVER EVER watch them for the weekend again.
I cannot even begin to tell you how much we look forward to this. I mean, we have the whole freaking weekend to ourselves. And quiet. It will be quiet! And we can eat! And sleep! Did I mention I’ll sleep? BECAUSE I WILL SLEEP AND SLEEP AND SLEEP.
I think you get the picture.
Of course, there is only one kind of sleep the husband is interested in. The kind where we don’t actually sleep. You know, THAT KIND. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge? No? Use your imagination. It involves getting to know each other. In the biblical sense. Not that you need to know that.
We might even act like grownups and visit something historic or go for a nature hike or go wine-tasting. But mostly what we do is eat and sleep. And we go to the Creamery. I mean THE CREAMERY. The most amazing creamery ever. Don’t argue with me, you’re wrong and I’m right. So there. And if you have never had this ice cream, I feel very sorry for you. It’s better than…getting to know people in the biblical sense. I swear it to be true.
But it isn’t better than potatoes.