This is the third post written from the summer of 2007 when our family spent two months in Richmond, VA; Brian was there for work. We decided to make an adventure out of the trip and hauled our 19 foot long toy hauler RV to live in. The following is a portion of my "email diary".
The automobile situation is looking up. Our first Friday here, which meant it was just in time for the weekend when Brian is here and I HAVE an automobile, he let me take over driving one the rentals that one of his project managers had been using. It was due back the next Monday. Is it just me, or does he get it?
Regardless, this meant that on Saturday I was able to get away from the trailer park for the first time since we arrived early last week. In honor of this momentous occasion I actually went to the mall!! After purchasing a few new articles of classic trailer park wear, I decided to get a pedicure. An Asian boy in the 11th grade was my nail technician and I think he forgot to buff one heal. Other than that, my French pedicure looks good (what IS it with this place?). He was bemoaning the fact that his mom made him get up at 9:00 am in order to go to work. Aren’t there child labor laws which exclude high school boys from performing state licensed services in Virginia? And before you ask, I swear to God I’m not making this up.
When I got back to camp, Brian had made the acquaintance of Charles. He has a name now, this black-toothed lithsper. His only comment to me was “that kid is kind of an asshole, isn’t he?” Unfortunately, he also made this comment out loud at the pool. For those of you who don’t know my husband, he doesn’t really have much of a filter. I’m waiting for our trailer to be egged some night in retaliation.
My lovely mother-in-law Sally arrived yesterday to stay through Friday and help out. She is an absolute blessing and is staying in a Marriot Residence…she’s no fool. She took Marah last night; Brody then decided to worm his way into our bed. My ribs are bruised but I’m pretty sure he slept great.
Sally couldn’t help laughing at how far I’ve fallen; from getting $20 hair cuts at Shear Madness for Brody to butchering his mop myself with kitchen shears out of desperation while stuck in the trailer park. Remember, I HAD NO TRANSPORTATION FOR A WEEK. I apologize. It is not a trailer park, it’s a Campground. And I apologize for yelling. It's just that he really needed a hair cut.
The tent people moved last night, but left their tent. People in Richmond sure are funny.
Marah, who spent each night she could in the Marriot with Sally, was overcome with excitement. The first night, she kept going on and on about how nice the room was:
“Look Grandma! This bed is so comfy!”
“Look Grandma! This place has cable!”
“Look Grandma! This bathroom is huge!”
You would’ve thought the child grew up in a West Virginia coal mining town instead of Johnson County, living in a house with three full bathrooms. How soon they forget.
Actually, to be completely honest, Brian and I stayed in the room one night while Sally stayed in the trai…oops, I mean RV with the kids. Blessed heaven. I took a bath and felt like I was at the Taj Majal. Brian attempted to enter the sacred room of meditation and Linda Blair returned. I admit to a little shame upon realizing she had taken up "prn" ("as needed" in hospital speak) residence within me. He got the message and left me to quiet serenity & squeaky clean peace.
When we first walked into the room, words weren’t necessary. Sometimes, as a couple, we are in such sync! He jumped into one bed and I jumped into the other. After my bath, goose bumps appeared when I found CNN and the History Channel. I think Sally expected a night of romance for us. After walking on top of each other for over a week, we wanted blessed space.
I actually got more excited the next day because they have a continental breakfast every morning. WhooEEE, there I was, overcome with excitement because there were little RV size packets of jelly, and honey….and lo and behold, flavored coffee mate! The big problem was figuring out how to get out of there with a bag full of these tiny little RV sized treats without drawing attention to myself.
After pondering the situation for a few moments, I decided to act wealthy and weird (okay, eccentric if you will) and march right on in there like I owned the place. I ended up resembling a ping pong ball before it was over. These were my moves: I grab a handful of jelly, drop it into the little bag, then bounce over to the coffee mate, running into Mr. Refined Business Man. “Excuse me Sir”, I mumble, then head back over to the honey. I’ll be damned, he’s there now. My bag still had allot of room in it, so I headed back to the coffee mate (a weakness, I must confess) and for God’s sake, he’s right there now filling his coffee cup! By now, I can tell he’s looking at me and my bag with a small sort of contempt. I’m in my RV park clothes (I have no need of anything else) which equates to a t-shirt and cut off jean shorts, but I know I don’t smell! I stayed in a Marriot the night before and had bath in the room of tranquility!
By now, I can feel other eyes on me so I just grab some apples and oranges, fill up the ol’ coffee cup again and start to head out.
Just as I reach the door, I spot cranberry juice and muffins! I’m having a hard time juggling the drinks but have lugged more than this many times before (mothers, you understand) and am more than up to the challenge. As I head through the lobby (and yes, there is laughter behind me) the man and woman at the desk, who had been talking, stop mid-sentence and stare at me with their mouths open. I say “thanks!” and they respond as good employees should with a “come see us again.” They watched me walk to the rental and drive away.
Speaking of the rental, I DO have a rental car now until we find something more permanent. The cheapest, crappiest automobile Enterprise had on their lot, I swear. Brian says it smells like Fido’s ass. He is renowned for possessing a rare and colorful vocabulary. I do have to agree with him. This current auto is a Chevy Cobalt and the only option it provides is air conditioning. I must admit, I’ve become spoiled by electric locks. It’s a real pain the arse to unlock four doors all of the time when hauling around two kids. How did they do it during the days of covered wagons?
The brakes do this funny gagagagagagagagagagagagagaga sound whenever I have to quickly apply them, which happens often in this part of the country. My God, they drive like fools out here; three people died last week just down the road from where we are staying in accidents. But never fear! Mr. Smart Consumer Brian has found a car to buy for me. He is paying less than the blue book price and feels certain he can sell it for at least the same amount, if not more, at the end of the summer. This is a potential bonus that makes him spin and twirl. It isn’t too bad. I think he got the message when I put up opposition to driving a car with 200,000 miles or more. The “new” car is a Dodge Neon with 75,000 miles, air conditioning and a CD player. That’s it. It’s a standard so I’m back to driving a stick, which I haven’t really done since high school and there are no electric locks or windows. But….and this is a big but, it doesn’t smell like Fido’s ass. Bonus!
Speaking of Brian and money…..he received an email from the owner of his company last week. She found out about our living situation and wrote “Get a hotel, ya cheap bastard!” To which he replied: “I’m not cheap, just frugal. The kids love it; the wife?”
We drove to Assateage Island and saw the wild ponies from Chincoteague but I’ll have to write about them later. I’ll tell you about our guide Dottie as well. Dottie is from New Jersey and the story of our time together is quite funny. Brian just got home so we are returning the rock star rental car (aka: Fido's Ass) and picking up the super cool Neon. As long as I have wheels, I don’t care if it’s a Gremlin (okay, that’s a lie). You know what I mean: wheels equate freedom and freedom equates happiness. And safety while going to Cinnabon.
Until next week,
Marlys
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