Cara and I went to Millington yesterday.
Apparently, I am incapable of being away from Tucker for longer than 24 hours. Just to be 100% clear here, I’m not dependent upon his dumbass for my happiness but things are rather boring around here when he’s gone.[Glad we’re clear on that one cause I was starting to sound a bit pathetic.]
So, yeah, Millington.
Small, Southern, run-down, bitchy people.
It really wasn’t that bad but it was a bit sad. Then again, you can’t really expect much from a town that depended on a HUGE Navy base that was, for the most part, shut down. From what I could see, the industries that were left were fast food chicken joints and cut-off too short jeans and REALLY tight tube tops. [Just pretend that those are industries for comic effect.]
Cara was beside herself excited about going to Millington – mostly because we were going to go swimming. The fact that we were going to see her dad ranked somewhere between the chocolate chip cookie that I had bought her and playing with her shoe.
We walked [I waddled] down to the pool…which was packed. Tucker put on Cara’s life jacket and in we went. The life jacket lasted all of two minutes, by the way.
Shortly after getting into the pool, my 21 month old decided that it would be a marvelous idea to get out of the pool and jump back into said pool…without her life jacket. Being the good parents that we are we of course let her.
Again. And again. And again.
It was only a matter of time before she twacked her head.
Instead of jumping off of the edge of the pool and into the water and my waiting arms, she more slipped than jumped and her occipital bone shook imaginary hands with the pool’s edge.
It was really special.
My favorite part of it all was the woman who kept asking if Cara was alright.
Over. And over. And over.
Soon there after, we retired to Tucker’s rather scary hotel room and changed clothes for dinner. We ate at a Greekesque steak place that advertised “unlimited soup and salad bar with dinner”. The salad part consisted of iceberg lettuce that was sitting in a rather deep offering of water, cubed ham and macaroni salad of some sort.
Don’t forget the red Jell-O!
Dinner was surprisingly good with the exception of the couple who were sitting next to us. [Keep in mind that there was a booth wall between us.] By this time, it was past 7pm and Cara was not only sleepy but also hungry. BUT, she was being a rock-star toddler and had yet to deconstruct anything.
Even though Cara was rockin’ the restaurant, the people next to us kept giving us weird, almost mean, looks. I don’t know if the looks were due to the fact that I was wearing an eyebrow ring in VERY small town America or if it was the fact that Cara was calling the red glass tile in the wall separating us and them “hot”.
Food was eaten. The bill was paid. Goodbyes were said and Cara and I headed home.
By that point it was 8pm – an hour past bedtime and it was almost dark.
We set off and Cara was asleep within a couple of minutes.
And then the bugs started.
As soon as I hit the highway they started attacking my windshield. I guess that technically the bugs got the raw end of the deal since it was their bodies being splattered on my glass.
But, man! You should have seen my windshield! At one point, I thought that it was raining. No rain; just bugs.
Gotta love farm country…and bug guts.