Last night I noticed as I parked the rental car that the outer casing of the driver’s side rear view mirror was missing. Oh, great, I thought. Did some aggressive Escalade driver nicked me in an East Hampton parking lot? Or was it some Hummer dude (because one’s driveway is technically off-road driving) who couldn’t fit his tank into four parking spaces and tapped my ultra-safe, unpretentious and family-like Volvo sedan? I was still a little wrecked about it even though I realized that buying all of that rental insurance paid off big time. That, and the GPS and the EZ Pass are all worth it, because family vacation drives are epic enough without the added excitement of not knowing where to go or scrounging for cash and change at the toll booth. I am sure Suze Orman would say that these are unnecessary add-ons that cost me money which, if properly invested, would pay for my son’s education. Well, I will figure out another way.
We went back out to Long Island to visit with friends who are just wonderful people. Our son swam in the pool, while the adults just kept eating and talking (someone was always watching him and poised to save him). Seriously, there was food to feed an army, which worked out well because people actually dropped by. In New York City, if someone dropped by unannounced, the person would be labeled a stalker and a restraining order issued.
I had to stop eating because, well, I didn’t wear loose enough clothing. Our son didn’t want to leave — why would he, when he got to swim, explore the nooks and crannies of a big house, and he was lovingly plied with cupcakes and given huge goody bag (big like a serious Halloween trick or treating night score) from the “candy drawer”.
We didn’t stay long enough (I was concerned about the Sunday afternoon traffic back into the city) and we love seeing them. And it was nice that we had the rental car so we did not to have to ask them to schlep to us in the City. (One of these days, I will recount the crazy story about how we met this couple and what we have lived through together — but no names and not now.)
I was very apologetic and self-conscious about checking my blackberry for texts from potential sitters for our son and constant phone messages from the owner of our beach house rental. My partner said she would speak to the owner and I was scared for the guy. She will put an end to his hysteria — either with (i) a charming and gentle touch or (ii) a verbal dressing-down that would be grammatically correct with poly-syllabic words for which he would need the OED (Oxford English Dictionary — when we were dating, my partner had to tell me what the acronym meant and she didn’t break it off — see, she DOES suffer some fools). All depends on his approach. Be afraid.
We just finished a rousing game of FDF (Fresh Direct Football). I stand in the foyer and throw the unbreakables to my son in the pantry who then runs them to my partner in the kitchen. No spillage and no bruised fruit (although I am worried about the orange bell pepper).
Our son is now reading his encyclopedia of trains (a gift from our friends some months ago). Recently, he said to me, “I am not angry at you, [Mom], but I just get very frustrated that you don’t remember the names and types of trains.” Oh, sweetie, if only I could remember most things I once knew. If only I were young with a sponge-like brain. If we were really smart, we would take you to the gambling tables and you would win because you would remember all the card that were played. Then I would need a faster car than the Volvo family sedan because I would have to out-run child protective services agents.