Vroom vroom. We had a fast Easter Sunday this year - but sooo nice to be able to head up to Duluth and share some good family company and yummy food.
The ham was delicious,the weather was perfect and mom defended her role as family barber while dad joked that I had "better get a food tester after what you wrote about your mother yesterday!"
Amazingly, my mom actually still has the VERY Trim Comb I lamented about. Even more incredibly, she STILL USES IT on my dad! Fortunately, dad hasn't been approached about being on the cover of GQ lately so his trim-combed coiff suits him just fine. Of course I couldn't leave without grabbing a picture of it.
[click to enlarge and reveal the "shear" evilness of this scalp-scraping implement]
Before we left, my 15 year-old asked if he could drive back to St. Cloud so he could get some interstate driving experience. Instinctively, my wife called "shotgun!" leaving me in the unnatural and uncompromising position of sitting in the back seat while my teenager drove our car. This is just wrong. Back seats are NOT made for parents. Grandparents - fine, but parents - no.
I have to admit - I've never prepared myself for this before. Not that I'm a control freak but (be quiet honey) not being able to apply the imaginary brake pedal or have my left arm cocked and ready to grab the steering wheel at a moment's notice feels a bit constraining.
Fortunately, my fears were for not. My son did a very nice job of navigating the I-35 post-Easter traffic migration, didn't have to avoid any wandering deer and even managed to keep the speed up so we didn't get mowed down from behind (thank you cruise control).
However the trip ain't over till it's over and therefore requires that when you're done unloading your stuff from the car, you turn off the dome light. That way...
DAD WON'T HAVE TO JUMP THE CAR IN THE MORNING!