The other night we were driving in the car and I was going through my mental to-do list.
I’ll spare you the list. It has a bunch of stuff on it. It always has a bunch of stuff on it. I’m sure yours does too. The thing that was different was my reaction to it. Stress. Hopelessness. Will I ever get the things done that I have to get done and still find time for the things I want to get done?
So I was in the car and thinking about my list of stuff. Sure my email inbox is overflowing and people who sent me messages last week are starting to send me second messages this week to see if I got their first messages which I haven’t even had time to read yet. I haven’t written a new post on crappy in over a week! But those things are okay. They can wait. What is not okay is that I’ve been constantly telling the kids, “We’ll do it later. Maybe another day.” Ah, the guilt. Will later ever come? Summer is almost over!
Right at that moment I looked up and saw a sign. A street sign. It was this one:
And I had to laugh. Thanks, universe, I heard you.
You see, right now the sun is shining too brightly.
The kids are playing too sweetly.
And summer is passing by too quickly.
So I’m signing off for a few weeks to tend to the most important thing on my to-do list.
In fact, we’re heading home to Wisconsin to visit my family and enjoy all the things that Wisconsin has to offer. Which roughly consists of these four things:
It will be a blast.
See you in a few weeks!
Disclaimer in the form of a conversation:
Crappy Papa: You know someone is going to be pissed off by your Wisconsin picture.
Me: Why? It’s true!
Crappy Papa: People who live in Madison will get defensive, I guarantee it.
Me: I know, but I was born there and I went to college in Madison. All of my family is still there so I can make fun of it. This is like one of the rules of comedy. I’m totally allowed. Making fun of it is like making fun of myself.
Crappy Papa: So you are made of cheese, brats, Packers and beer?
Me: Pretty much. Minus the Packers due to an extreme case of sports apathy though. And since I haven’t been eating dairy or drinking beer for the last two months I guess not those either. Just brats. I’m made of brats.
Crappy Papa: When was the last time you ate a brat?
Me: Um…well… When I was in Wisconsin last year? See? This is proof of the accuracy of my picture. I win.
Crappy Papa: Ha ha ha. Are you going to mention other stuff we’re planning to do while we are there?
Me: You mean like going to small town brat & corn festivals to see demolition derbies and tractor pulls? And setting off fireworks on the barnyard? And going to thrift and antique stores because everything is so cheap and awesome? And driving down country roads and talking to cows and snooping in abandoned farmhouses?
Crappy Papa: Yeah.
Me: Nah. But I might tell those stories later. Who knows.
(PS – for the international folks, brats are sausages/bratwurst and the Packers are a football team. I can see how otherwise Wisconsin makes no sense at all.)