reality check

We arrived home from summer "vacation" (I don't think it technically counts as a vacation since I bring my work in the form of 4 kids with me) nearly a week ago and this morning my mom returned home (she was trying not to look too relieved about that), so I am left contemplating real life and how I can best avoid it.

Off topic, I just had to take a picture of Great White since I felt like a clone of Randy when I packed it and it looked "packed" not thrown together and stuffed to the gills - hmmm, maybe that's a metaphor for my reality. . . Even more off topic, note the John Edwards bumper stickers - they are a symbol of my journey out of adolescence and I can't part with them until he kicks Karl Rove to the curb in his upcoming September debate, and until Obama picks a running mate, but I digress. . .

We have a tradition for road trips in our family of a "reality check" which stems back from college debate trips. When the driver of the big van would get sleepy, no matter how many other people were legitimately asleep in the van, all the windows would be rolled down while some loud obnoxious song is cranked (the one you hear now is what we used this summer). When all passengers were in check with reality, the windows would be rolled up and the radio returned to its normal volume.

Since it's almost lunch time here and we are still eating the groceries bought by Randy the bachelor, I have a feeling I am due for a reality check, home-style. Maybe I'll go find reality before she finds me and I'll get to define her myself. Maybe she'll look more like my car on our trip home - everything with a designated place, easy to find, full but not stuffed. Likely not, but hopefully at least I'll keep my hair from flying out the windows. You'll know I succeeded when I have posted vacation pics. Check mate.