And Now the Rest of the Story

Right after dinner, dad decides that we should head back. I had the same idea, but I was thinking after cake not before. So just as I get in the restroom, my phone rings. It is Ducky with a report on what I have been missing. Lots. Except I only have one bar on my phone and three minutes into the conversation, I lost the call. Bummer.

In the meantime, dad must think I have left without him because he is saying to my brother that he has no idea where I have gone. So we do our good byes. My new sister in law asks where we are staying. Motel 6 by the airport of course. She decides to inform me that many of her clients are from there. Oh boy, she is a public defender. That can't be good. I respond with, I'll make sure to lock the doors. But your car might get vandalized. But it is a rental. You bought the insurance right? Nope. Living on the edge!

I decide that when I talk to Ducky, I won't mention any of that. He is a worrier after all. My philosophy, it'll all work out in the end.

So we hit the road and head back to Reno. We get back to Reno no problem. Dad thanks me several times for coming with him. Ah, shucks. But then we have to find the motel. I have the map from the rental company. I have the address. I was going to call from the lodge, except for the limited lack of phone reception. I get to find the motel in the dark in a town I have only spent about 10 minutes in. And remember I am supposed to know exactly how to do everything.

One wrong turn later and I have to pull off to the side of the road to call. Grouchiness is spreading rapidly. Turn around, head back and wa-la, motel. I send dad in to register and I call and vent. Otherwise I might explode. This is after an entire conversation about when we need to be at the airport tomorrow. I don't know, our flight was at 11 something, I assume we can figure that out after we find the hotel. Wrong. Again.

So we check in, park and find our room. Dad promptly strips to his shorts and goes to bed at 8:30. My eyes are still burning. What is wrong with wearing real pajamas? Especially in mixed company. I read a book for a half hour before I give up, feeling bad for keeping the light on. I packed a sleeping pill for this very occasion. Dad has been known to snore and there is a lot of noise outside.

And I drift off to sleep, only to be woken up at 4:24 by a text message. One of my "daughters" had her baby and I gave them permission to text me whenever, because my phone is downstairs and I sleep upstairs. Except that one night. Of course. And I never really go back to sleep after that. Bummer.

So at seven I give up and get up. And it takes five minutes for that shower to heat up. I was sure that I was going to have to take a cold shower. We have plenty of time to check out, go eat breakfast (I can't eat that early), return the rental car and hang out at the airport for two and a half hours.

Going through security is like deja vu. And then we sit. I go and buy silly gifts for the boys. And a magazine. And a coffee. And finish my book. And tell dad he might want to eat something because there probably won't be time after the flight. There is a one hour window between when our plane lands and his bus leaves. I have been joking that if he misses the 2 o'clock bus, he gets to sit and wait for the 6 o'clock one. Because he is not coming home with me. Mostly because we couldn't get him on another bus until Tuesday and our Monday nanny would be really uncomfortable if he was at our house with her. We need the Monday nanny.

So he goes and gets a sandwich. Complains about the person who made it for him, and makes a slur that makes me very uncomfortable. Eats three bites and throws it away. Okey dokey. If I click my heels together three times can I go home?

Full flight. But luck is with me. Another "old goat," dad's words not mine, sits next to him and they exchange stories the whole way back! We arrive early. I drop dad off at the bus stop, go get my car and drive around to drop off the rest of his stuff. And I am free. Yes, I left my dad waiting at the airport for his bus. But by then he only had 20 minutes to wait. And parking at the airport is such a hassle.

So I am headed home via the hospital. I had to see the baby. I am a back up grandma after all. I'll tell that story soon. Cute baby, throwing his first fit, happy that it is not mine and that I can give him back. I come home to my own cute boys and collapse on the couch. They snuggle in and tell me all about their weekend.