Over the river and through the woods…
Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.
Because Thanksgiving family road trips just cause my mind to go there. And for whatever reason, that verse is inextricably tied to the Robert Frost line, “And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.”
Which is technically not true for Luke, since he sleeps for roughly 70% of the miles traveled. This fact makes my Thankful list, believe me. Since it means that Larry and I have the joy of listening to our music preferences minus the backseat radio committee.
Although truth be told, Larry’s top station choice is 70’s on 7; and my music selection trends to anything but 70’s music. Probably because I was born in the latter half of that decade, and wasn’t listening to anything but Sesame Street during Larry’s high school years. But we won’t dwell on that fact, because it can seem two shades of awkward if you think too hard.
Speaking of my dear husband, I swear that he must have had 3 cups of coffee too many yesterday. During one particular stretch of highway between Wichita Falls, Texas and the Red River, I thought he might never quit talking. Larry isn’t exactly the silent type or anything, but he doesn’t normally carry on sentence after sentence without taking a breath.
Until yesterday, when he did that very thing, and it plum wore me out. It was then that I realized what I put him through every single day of his life. (God bless him; what a gracious man he is.) I vowed that if God would just make him be quiet for a hot minute, I would be more mindful of the quantity of my own words.
Don’t get me wrong, my husband is my favorite; and conversations with him are the best parts of my day. But this was…excessive.
So much so, that Luke piped in from the back seat that sometimes he wishes that people had buttons on their foreheads. You know, so you could turn them off when you need silence. (Luke isn’t one to hold back his sentiments.)
He expressed a similar opinion earlier in the day, when he suggested to Larry that if he would keep the music turned up, the two of them wouldn’t have to listen to all my stories.
Which serves to prove that while Luke may share my physical features, he is all Larry on the inside.
In a sense, all three of us have had our snarky wishes granted. Because we can’t even hear our own thoughts over the television volume at Mom Dalke’s house. Much less can we hold any meaningful conversation. Because it’s just that loud.
And leave it to Luke to tell his grandmother that she should really ask for hearing aids for Christmas.
Oh, for the love of family…I’m truly grateful.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
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