found it by accident. My great grandmother was oblivious to the entire conversation and before she nodded off, kept asking how long until we were home.
I wished I were at home, in my little studio apartment, miles and milesaway from all of them with my fluffy red couch and soft velvety cushions, smelling mystrawberry flavored candles and staring at my blank wall of a canvas, that after almostfive years of living there, I’d still yet to set paint to.I tried not to dwell on the fact that I had spent the entire day in a chaotic uproar with three, singularly annoying woman and an evil, mangy mutt. Gritting my teeth, Isped past the exit and tried not to feel guilty about it. I also tried not to notice thedisappointed look on my grandmother’s face as I pushed the gas a little harder and turnedup the radio still spouting her choice of Neil Diamond in my petty way of saying,
“I win.”So much for guilt
, I thought as I shrank down in my seat a little. My mom justshook her head and pulled out her nail file again, swiping angrily at each fingernail.
Howdid I get myself into this mess?
I asked myself, trying not to let her attitude get to me…anymore than it already had, that is.I blew out a deep breath at that thought. What
I thinking? A road trip withmy annoyingly young, free spirited, Barbie doll of a mother, my babbling, know-it-all,tell you the same story again as if you’d never heard it a hundred times beforegrandmother and my aging, dementia setting in, owner of the world’s most annoying littledog great-grandmother.I sighed as I realized I hadn’t been thinking of much more than a little break frommy life in Chicago. A few days away to just breathe and not dwell on the