i used to write poetry

September 16, 2017

Today we played hookie, loaded the kids in the car, and drove almost 2 hours to a hidden grotto.


It only took me one right hand turn before I leaned over and checked Brett's GPS. 


"Why is it taking us this way?"


I complained for a few seconds about the GPS not making any sense, and complained some more in my head about the morning traffic we were hitting.


Then Sanders got that carsick look on his face and I braced for impact. 


"Just look out the window and you won't throw up. Do you need to throw up?!" He grunted so I knew we had about 15 minutes until something happened. I looked at the GPS ETA: 45 minutes. 


"Why are we backtracking? We should be going west."


Brett is so patient with me. He showed me that we were, indeed, going west. And then I blamed the GPS for taking us off-the-beaten-path. I glanced back at Sands who was now munching on a graham cracker. Hopefully that would buy him more time. 

It was a long car ride, mainly due to my complaining, but we made it to Hamilton Springs. And it was totally worth it. And I felt bad for starting our day off negatively. I'm a work in progress. 

I'd never been to a grotto before so I was taking it all in just as much as the children. The place reminded me how I used to write poetry. I think if I wrote a poem about my experience here, I would include words like catfish, erosion, innertube, overhang, fairies, deep, and gather.



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