Friday, January 27, 2012

Errands

I just got back from taking the kids up the road towards the mountain house, where they will spend the weekend with my parents. I met my dad at the halfway point. Or, in one version of the story that could be told, I drove fifteen miles past the meeting point and had to turn around and come back.

My version of the story is more complex. It has to do with Demorest, GA, the planned rendezvous point, being not very well marked coming from the south, and my thinking I was somehow passing through Cornelia when I was passing through both towns, somehow, and then I was introducing Hank and Laura to Tenacious D and I wasn't as super duper alert to the signage as I might have been, though I will say that sign was in a weird place, like way up over the road instead of off to the right where I was looking.

I called my dad as I was approaching Cornelia. "Okay, I'm almost to Cornelia. Is Demorest a lot past that?" (Here you might be thinking, "Becky, don't you make this trip, from your house to the mountain house, all the time?" Yes, yes I do, but it's remarkably hard to remember what comes after what except that the Goats on the Roof are just before Clayton, and some ways before that is a Subway/gas station with the World's Dirtiest Bathroom, and there's a Chick-fil-A in Clayton (closed Sunday), and somewhere past Franklin there's that Walmart we went in that one time to buy Legos. That's my mental map of the route.)

So when I called Dad he said, "Yes, Demorest is up the road past Cornelia, I'm in Tallulah Gorge right now, and I'll be at the spot in fifteen minutes." Cool, okay, I rang off and motored right along until all of a sudden I found myself in Tallulah Gorge. I figured that space had somehow twisted itself, mobius-fashion, and I had wound up on the far side of the meeting point without ever going through the meeting point.

It was with genuine bewilderment that I called him again and said, "What just happened? I am in Tallulah somehow. I am not sure what to do." Dad drew on the patience and clarity that he honed during his thirty years as an educator. "Uh, turn around? Go the other way," he explained. Then he gave a series of instructions involving mile markers and an Arby's, and I got the car pointed in the other direction and found him.

Sometimes I just like to go driving around Georgia.

On the way home, by myself, in the afterglow of a jamocha milkshake, I was thinking about that phrase, "the Sandwich Generation," for people who find themselves being caregivers for older parents while still having kids at home. It's related, I guess, both to the trends of aged folks living longer and to people waiting until later to start their families. For some reason it came to my mind, and I thought how I feel like I'm in a sandwich too, only it's a good sandwich that makes my life easy. I have these children I love and am enjoying bringing up, and yet I still feel as nurtured by my own parents as I did when I was a little girl. It's a happy sandwich and I am grateful for it.

I came home to Matt, both of us ready to commence our childless weekend, and before we could, one of his artists was leaving and broke his car key. So Matt is right now driving him home while I wait. Artists, man. Seriously, they can barely keep their shit together. This is the guy who got his car stuck in our front yard one time. Jeebus. I don't know what it is.

Not really artists, jk! You know I love you!

But that errand gave me a chance to pop in and say Happy Friday to you guys.

I hope you get yourself into a good sandwich this weekend.

xoxo

16 comments:

Aimee said...

I find myself in the same sandwich, and I love it. Have a fabulous weekend by YOURSELVES. Going out to dinner anywhere? Go to Dante's for us, will you? We miss the fondue & crocs.

Jenny said...

Hee! I am in Georgia also, and I've often contemplated the logistics of Goats on the Roof and why that hasn't take off in other parts of the nation. It's goats! On the roof! No false advertising there.

Kelly said...

We've been to that Arby's. And I have wanted to go see the goats on a roof for years. Somehow we've driven past them at least four times and never stopped.

Beth said...

Did you get a squirt of chocolate in your Jamoca milkshake? Because you HAVE to have a squirt of chocolate in any Jamoca milkshake that you drink. It's a law of the universe.

Star said...

Thanks for the (as usual) fun post, and especially for the good soul sandwich.

Michele said...

I can say with some authority that artists can't keep their shit together. It's what makes them lovable.

My Kids' Mom said...

"It's a happy sandwich and I am grateful for it." Me too! I dropped my boys off at my parents' house last night so hubby and I could go to a party. We picked them up after our leisurely breakfast... and some needed sleeping in!

When my parents moved nearby we knew that someday I'd care for them but the care they provide for me now more than balances out for anything that comes later.

Lisa Lilienthal said...

Happy Sandwich. There's your book title right there.

Christian said...

Have you been to that special spray tan party yet? Because we're REALLY anxious to hear all abou it

Becky said...

It's tonight, darling. No worries, you shall hear!

Amy said...

I am slow (we all know this), because when you said "Sandwich Generation" I'm going, "Hmmm. Why do they call it that? Cause you're making PB&J's for your kids AND your parents?" But NOW I get it--sandwich!

You ARE in a happy sandwich. Surrounded by people who love you and would drop anything for you. Lucky duck! I'm in the same scenario, I suppose, it's just that the layers of my sandwich are 8000 miles apart. This metaphor is really breaking down, isn't it? Never mind.

Cassi Renee said...

I would LOVE to have that sandwich. In fact, I would love to have my parents close enough to see them without an 8 hour drive. And, I would really love having a whole childless weekend, knowing my kid was happy and safe.

Have a fun weekend!

Christian said...

Oh, goodie! We'll be thinking of you all evening.

Amy said...

Seeing sandwiches like yours makes me hope my girls will find the right men and hurry and have babies quick, before I'm too old to be some happy bread.

Man, I suddenly realized I am in dire need of a jamocha afterglow. Thank you for reminding me. Arby's, here I come!

Kate said...

I agree with Amy from Fraught. Those shakes are the best. But I started a no sugar/flour diet so FU*K, I can not have one. My husband is home for one night before leaving again, so I am sure we will be sandwiching. Can't wait to hear about the party! I do hope you went.

Elle said...

Ew, I hope you did not spend one golden pairs-weekend moment at that trashy party.

This made me think, for the first time, about caring for my adult children. Well, one of them, anyhow. Totally blobbable! xox