Slow Ride

     Dog fur on your clothes can be awesome, when you rarely get the opportunity to be around dogs. Cat spit on your open palm from licking you, as they condescend to lay half on your lap is an accomplishment, too.

     But a goat nibbling on your jeans hem? That’s the best! 

                             

                 

    When one doesn’t have the means to maintain a menagerie that would make Dr. Dolittle proud, you go where you can enjoy such spoils.

     Add a niece’s birthday to the blender, a little energy drink contraband, a complete lack of watching one’s caloric intake for an entire weekend, and a fun time will always be had---especially when you spoil the niece with flan, churros, and cash.

     A road-trip, when traveled via two-car caravan, is also a wise move; it establishes sanity, stability, and removes all sense of disgruntlement, nae, tempestuousness, at the only one who can reduce my intelligence to flaming gas-balls of fury.  

     Close quarters for longer than an hour usually inspires my need for flight, as is the typical Gemini’s innate characteristic. Boredom, we will not tolerate.

     Painted faces, offerings of ersatz tea and cakes, bubble wands being waved while jumping on trampolines, canines competing for visitor’s affections, sinewy felines pretending they’re not, turkey burgers, and Mexican food that leaves you feeling bloated for having eaten far too much….

    Oh yah, that’s the life!