Welcome to my week at the RT! Mike was thoughtful enough to leave someone in charge of entertaining the masses while he spends the week making up fish stories over lots o' whiskey. Who better than his mega-pregnant big sis? Besides the fact that I can barely reach the keyboard over my belly, typing is the perfect physical activity for me these days. In appreciation for this opportunity, I planned to pay homage to Little Mikey over the course of the week in my own way, but who knew the first post would be this easy.
Granted, this may seem a little backhanded to those of you that do not know Mike to take the "path of most resistance" as I do. Simple tasks are easily complicated, and plans are never what you made them to be when you make them with Mike. He's been known to show up at restaurants on the wrong day for dinner dates with friends. But today he rose above the masses of testosterone standing at the curbside check-in, and I for one am duly impressed.
Mike started packing days ago. He was up on time this morning, dressed and ready for the flight before Louis (our crackhead little brother) was even home from the bars. He spent the night at Mom and Dad's to streamline the airport transportation. He even came up with an extra pair of headphones for my husband John at 3:30 this morning. John has been understandably busy with a new house, new tenants, pregnant wife, and pending trip. I was happy to see him load everything in the car this morning, on time, checked off checklist in hand. If headphones were the most significant forgotten item he was in good shape.
After our collective goodbyes at the airport, Mom, my sister Mary, and I headed back to the cars. Mary and I pulled out of the garage behind Mom who proceeded to slam on her brakes, screech her tires backing up to us and yell "John's driver's license is expired and they won't let him on the plane! You need to go home and find him another ID!" So Mary called John to find out where this "other ID" was located, and I started having little contractions as I did 80 down the 33 at 5am. Apparently the contents of John's purged wallet were on our mantle. I made it home, up the stairs and to the livingroom without giving birth. I sorted through this pile of wegmans cards, media play gift cards, buy 9 get the 10th free coffee cards, and finally called John to find out what the hell he was looking for. He was frantic, thinking there was a voter registration card or something there, but there was nothing to prove who he was, just where he shopped. I asked about his birth certificate because i had a reasonably good idea where i could find it, and he happily said "oh yeah!!! ITS IN THE CAR!" um, that would be the same car that I just drove like a madwoman risking, life and limb and my unborn child to get back to the house.
After an even madder dash back to the airport, we delivered the birth certificate and Mary called Mom to assure her that all was well. Apparently, Mom walked back into her own house to find Dad's cell phone and Louis's brand new EMS jacket sitting on the table. She said "I hesitate to use the word stupid, but..."
So today I have to congratulate my brother Mike on remembering his cell phone AND his jacket, and making that trip to the DMV, planning ahead so he'd be able to get on the plane. Brilliant.
1 year ago