A New Year

I have an irrational fear. That I like to say is not an irrational fear. I don't like to go out on New Year's Eve. More specifically, I don't want to be on the road on NYE with some 17 (or 47) year old who has been drinking and takes me out. 'Cause I would be the one that gets taken out. Just because.

So this year we all packed into the truck to drive Mimi home at mid afternoon. Dad drove in silence while the kids eventually nodded off and Mimi and I rehashed the news, again. The economy. Obama. Crime rates. Tragedy. And the cost of food. (Happy New Year!)

We reached Mimi's house and James' car was missing, so she exclaimed that a cup off tea and brandy was in store for her, and we bid her a good evening (she would be asleep by 8pm).

Then we headed back on the journey home, rehashing childhood stories, all the schools that Michael had been in over the years, the one school I had attended. Hunt woke up going on about being hungry, which is his favorite statement right now. I caught Michael eyeing the next McDonalds while we sat at a red light light, and he pulled in so we could all have a treat (mine of course being that I wouldn't have to come up with dinner upon our return).

When we got home the kids played like angels while we had some beers and watched cheesy movies and chatted. We decided it was a perfect New Year's.

Happy and peaceful new Year to Everyone.