Flew The Coop

Sorry to be MIA for the last week, but I flew the coop.

I’ve been hanging with my aunt in Georgia.

My Aunt Pat

I attempted to escape the snow, but I wasn’t so lucky.  It followed me.

There’s something strange about southern snow though.

It falls – everyone loses power – it melts.

This all seems to happen within twenty-four hours.

I got a little antsy when I woke up to snow and nobody was leaving their house – no tire tracks, not even a footprint.  It was like the end of the world had come and I was the lone survivor.

I wanted to stand in the street and yell, “If we all shovel together, we can clear a path to Target!”

I’m pretty sure no one would listen.

So, I grabbed a shovel and got to work myself.  My aunt shook her head clucked, “It will be gone by afternoon.  You’re working for nothing.”

I didn’t believe her.  My gut told me we’d be snowed in for three days if we were going to wait for a plow.

For once, I was happy to be wrong.  The gray skies gave way to sunshine and before you could say “melt”, I was heading to Target.

Before I left home, my husband assured me he and the kids would be just fine without me.

“I plan on making a lot of crock-pot meals.” my husband told me.

That’s when I burst out laughing, because despite his sounding like a middle-aged housewife with good intentions, I doubted the execution of these one pot dinners.

That’s why, after I was gone for two whole days, I called my daughter and asked what they had for dinner.

“Raviolis, Chef Boyardee style.”

“But, I thought dad was making crock-pot meals.”  I said.

“He put the raviolis in the crock-pot.”

I guess he kept his word.  He made lots of crock-pot meals, and then he got tired of cooking and drove down to meet me.

Now, I vote we go out.