The first thing I noticed about being back home – the drivers are psycho. I can remember getting to Texas and complaining that everybody did the speed limit, and more than a few were content to go a little slower. I guess I got used to it because every car on the highway was racing up my ass and when I didn’t get out of the way fast enough they would start weaving through 3 and 4 lanes to get past.
We got into Ottawa about 3pm and called The Boy. We had to drive past his dad’s house to get to ours. Since we didn’t want to see our dog until it was time to bring her home, we told him he would have to meet us on the corner.
We pulled into the neighborhood and there he was. It was so good to see him, big hugs all around.
When we turned onto our street, both kids bailed out in search of their friends.
We got home and it still looked like home. The painters were still there working, and we had a quick walk around the house. Everything seemed to be in good order.
It only took minutes to unbolt the security cover for the pool and the kids jumped in.
The kids Dad showed up to get them when he got off work and we took off to our favorite Lebanese restaurant before checking into our hotel.
We’re home.
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