It’s summer vacation time, and we are on our way to Destin, Florida once again. Except this time no RV, we’ve rented a house, and I just know it’s going to be awesome! However, we did rent a van and when the husband came home with it, I had to laugh. It looked like a church van, and preacher J was driving! I thought if I called him preacher J it would cut down on the foul language and general pissiness over the course of this 12 hour drive. My hopes and dreams were crushed before we even left our neighborhood. Oh well…
Hubby takes the first part of the drive, and he rejects all my offers for carfun awesomeness (typically). I tried a scavenger hunt, and he complained that the items were impossible to find. I will admit when he almost killed us by swerving to miss a blown-out tire piece (a drastic over-reaction in my humble opinion, when I was driving and that box was in the road, I just ran over it…no problemo), and our scavenger hunt item was ambulance, I thought maybe we should play a different game. It seemed to portend bad tidings. So then we played a rousing game of Mad Libs, and even though he couldn’t stop laughing, he proclaimed it “stupid”. So, I finally gave up on car games and just tried to enjoy the drive. I notice at some point that hubby seems to be blinking his eyes alot and there was that one time when he crossed over into the shoulder and it had those grooves that make a godawful screeching sound when you drive over it. So I thought maybe it was time I drove church bus. Now, while hubby was driving, the weather was sunny, the traffic minimal, and not a breeze to be found. I start driving and I get ferocious winds, streaming buckets of rain so hard I couldn’t see the hood of my own car, scary lightening and road construction! If all that wasn’t enough, I am driving when we cross the bridge from Louisiana to Mississipi. I might have mentioned my phobic fear of bridges in previous blogs. So, in the driving rain and harsh cross-winds, I am stuck on this tiny two lane rickety bridge sandwiched between a flimsy guardrail and a semi-truck! My knuckles are white, my shoulders are hunched to my ears and I feel a tic in my left eye. I might stroke out. But I don’t. Whew.
We decide to stop for a quick bite and there are like 6 hotels within walking distance, and I suggest we stop here for the night, but nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, hubby thinks we could drive a bit longer. We eat and then hit the road again, this time hubby is driving. The only thing better than driving in the aforementioned conditions was listening to hubby and man-child bicker in the backseat. I swear at one point I heard hubby cry out “he’s touching me”. Now it’s getting dark, we don’t know anything in the area, we are headed into Jackson, and he likes none of my suggestions for places to stay. We take our exit to Hattiesburg, and stop at this light and I kid you not, beyond the light is a black abyss of nothingness. At this point, hubby admits we should have stopped when I suggested it. HA! Can I get that in writing please? He suggests we stay at this swanky little motel sandwiched between a pawn shop and a huge sign that reads “Jesus Christ, the Ultimate Problem-Solver”. Call me a snob, poke fun but I’d rather sleep in church bus. So we venture on. Finally, we hit a somewhat populated area and I spy a Holiday Inn. Of course, it has a NO DOGS policy and we have Danny, but I decide to venture on and get two rooms. I try to casually mention the dog policy to hubby, hoping he won’t freak out. He freaked out. The man worries about EVERYTHING. My daughter and I covertly launched “Operation Dog Smuggling” and with the help of a brightly crocheted blanket, a hunched over 14 year old and me peeking around doorways, we were able to sneak the dog into the room with none the wiser!
After a good nights sleep, we continue our journey to Destin. Now, we are relying on my GPS to get us there, and it hasn’t failed us yet. My husband often accuses me of exaggeration, but let me say that this next part is written word for word exactly how he said it, with no embellishment at all. I said “you will need to take a right on Smith Street”. His response “WHAT?!?!?! What crazy backroads are you taking us on now??? I can see the headlines now, unkown family found massacred by serial killer in the remote backwoods of Mobile, Alabama in a church bus”. What can I even say to this? I bite my tongue and I tried to stifle back my sigh, but I mean really, I’m only human. Apparently if it’s not an interstate it doesn’t count as a road. Despite his doubts, protestation and complaints, we made it to our house. It’s really cute, a 3 minute walk to the beach and we are so happy to finally be here! Let the good times roll! Here are some pics of the house:
Here is our cute little front yard and our neighborhood, I can hear the waves crashing on the beach!
Here is a pic of our cute kitchen, and yes there is hubby. When the girls commented on his attire, or lack thereof, he informed us we better get used to it, he wasn’t planning on wearing a shirt all week and we were lucky he was wearing pants. He then went on to tell us this horrifying tale of what he did when the kids and I went to my parents house. Apparently, he bought himself steak everyday, grilled it and then sat naked on our couch while he ate it and drank beer. Who did I marry? I ask you.
And here are pics of our oldest daughter’s private quarters above the garage and separate from the house
We may never see her again.
And here are pics of our back porch and pool
And here is a pic of the spiral staircase leading to Emmy’s little tower on the third floor. I won’t climb those stairs, so you’ll have to just imagine what her little bedroom looks like.
And other pics
And our little man-child all settled in
Tomorrow: We hit the beach!