Cookie Time

Three days ago, I awoke from a night filled with dreams about vacuuming. In my dream, I vacuumed behind my sofa. I vacuumed behind my dresser. I vacuumed behind my washer and dryer. I guess you could call it a fantasy, really. As I dragged myself out of bed to attend to the child who was calling out to me, beckoning for a wipe, I thought to myself, "This New York trip can't come fast enough."

On Tuesday, Joe and I are headed to New York City. Alone. For a week. I don't know how I'm going to be able to make it a week without seeing my babies, because the couple of times I've been away from them for one night have seemed like an eternity, but it will be so much fun to have my husband all to myself for a week.

In preparation for our trip, my mother flew here this morning so she could learn the routine, then take care of our boys for the week. This morning, we finished cleaning the house, dressed the boys, spit-shined their faces, and piled them in the car for the hour and twenty minute drive to the Tupelo airport. We got there, got the kids out of the car, and excitedly told them that they were about to see Cookie. As we entered the empty one-room terminal, we started to get suspicious. A quick check on the arrivals board and a phone call to my mother confirmed our suspicions. Wrong airport.

I'd tell you how it this mix-up happened, but you'd die of boredom, and then you wouldn't be able to read my weblog anymore. Suffice it to say, we had another hour and ten minutes to travel, ironically, to the airport in the town where we actually live.

As soon as we were reunited and we fed our hungry faces, we began a delightful afternoon together. There was exchanging of gifts, playing with toys, napping, cider-sipping, and story-reading. One of the fun things Cookie brought was a book from my childhood, Curious George Visits the Zoo. Here's the cover:


And here's a picture of George and The Man With the Yellow Hat walking around the zoo:


And here's a picture of some people having a picnic on the grass at the zoo:


Wait a minute, having a picnic AND SMOKING A CIGARETTE:


Who backed this book? Phillip Morris? I'm no Pollyanna, but I really don't want to know what's in Leroy's blue solo cup. Or why he has bare feet. Or if he's friends with Charles Manson.

Anyway, off we go to the Big Apple, and I'm sure Cookie will have some stories to share when we get back. Let's all hope they don't tie her up and burn her at the stake.