So sometimes things don't always go as you plan - or - perhaps as a good friend of the family likes to say "Man plans, and God (or insert your own personal deity, moral code, universe etc.. here) laughs".
So Mom and Dad showed up around 10:30 as planned with Fred in tow. The two furballs settled in fairly quickly with minimal growling. Both seemed resigned to their fate to be roommates for the week and once various safe zones and food bowl choices had been made each retreated to their own corner giving only the occasional weak hearted hiss.
And so, after a few last minute packing items we departed. As predicted, the arguments that ensued were over the directions and why wasn't I following the Garmin and the radio. But, in the relative scheme of life in the Nigro Family these were normal calm quiet discussions that any family could have :).
After a bout of traffic on the Hutchinson Parkway set us back about a half an hour we started to make great time. Around 1:00 we decided it was time to stop for lunch and pulled into an Outback. And that my friends, is where it all went wrong....
Getting out of the car I spoke the words "Hang on...let me grab my purse" only to have my nightmares realized. I checked the front seat - no purse. I checked the back seat. No purse. I checked the trunk. Nothing. I checked everything again. Nothing. No drivers license, no credit cards, no cash, no cash card, no make up...nothing. I frantically called my cat sitters in the hope that they would be able to access my apartment and make sure the purse was in fact there. My other fear was that I did in fact take the purse with me, put it on the roof of the car and drove away leaving the bag (which was purchased in Venice and is one of my favorite) to the wind. Both sitters were not in the area. I called another friend who happened to be on his way to Norwalk in the hopes that he could connect with the Super who also has a set of my keys. Only the damn Super is in Europe and his wife was in NJ throwing a baby shower for her daughter! The fates were against me.
I had to do it. I had to come clean. The first stupid setback of the trip belonged to me. We had to go back. Back down Route 8, back down the Merritt Parkway, across the Hutch and the Cross County to the Sawmill, to the Henry Hudson to Broadway and back to the apartment. Thankfully the traffic gods were on our side and we made it in just about an hour. I ran up and sure enough, there was the purse precisely where I left it. After a quick bathroom stop, we got on the road again. Up Broadway, onto the Henry Hudson (where my father reminded me that his E-Z pass now got to pay the toll twice....), up the Sawmill to the Cross County and the Hutch, up to the Merritt and back up to 8. By the time we hit Hartford I had been driving for well over 5 hours. We all remarked we didn't realize Hartford was quite so far and then realized - it actually wasn't.
We crossed into Massachusetts sometimes after 6 and I knew that my plans of Portsmouth were slipping away. The stress of the day and the extra two hours of driving were taking their toll on all of us. Dad stopped complaining about the radio and the temperature in the car. Mom's idle chatter about everyone and everything slowed to a crawl. When I passed a sign that said 69 miles to Portsmouth I felt a renewed sense of energy. Until I realized those were the 69 miles I already drove to get back and forth to the apartment - and finally, upon seeing the green lights of a Holiday Inn somewhere north of Worcester, MA I gave up the goat.
Here I was planning on blogging about how to survive a trip with my parents but maybe I should be blogging about how they survive the trip with me? Can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring... For now all is well. I have a comfy king size bed, Family Guy is on back to back episodes and the security guards just kicked out the loud family sitting by the indoor pool directly outside my room. Dreamland calls.
Survival Tip: A little OCD checking of EVERYTHING you need to have with you doesn't hurt anybody.
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