We can never just have a normal vacation

I'm pleased to say we survived our holiday weekend, though it was not without its road bumps, both literally and figuratively. The most significant:

- Abby sustained what was, in her eyes, a major injury when she jumped over a sprinkler in my grandmother's back yard and it nicked the side of her foot. There was a small amount of blood that gathered around the cut--not enough to drip off--and she should truly have won an Oscar for her performance. Once she calmed down, though, she admitted that she had "just freaked out for a minute."

-On their return trip Sunday, my parents hit a deer on I40 going around 75 miles an hour (them, not the deer). Incredibly, they were going fast enough that the deer literally exploded on impact. Yes, it's every bit as gross as it sounds. Mom's car is at a garage in Russellville awaiting repairs, and Matt and I spent half of Sunday afternoon racing to Russellville to rescue them. They were remarkably calm about the whole thing--as dad put it, "No matter how bad our day was, at least it wasn't as bad as the deer's" True, true.

-On Monday at around noon, my grandmother's 60-ish cousin Wilma, from California, called. Wilma is a bit of an odd duck. She's very loud, and very talkative, and very blunt, and very clueless about how much she annoys everyone, and also about anything related to social skills. Wilma announced that she was in town, and could she take my grandmother out to dinner? My grandmother, who had been planning to spend that time with us before we left, of course agreed because she's so sweet. Besides, she would still have all afternoon to hang out with us first. Well, it turned out that Wilma was calling from a taxi. A mile from my grandmother's house. She showed up 10 minutes later, and planted herself all day. Let me just share with you the first thing she said to me, and I think this will sum up very neatly for you the woman that is Wilma. I walked into the room, and my grandmother said, "Wilma, you remember Nancy, don't you?" I haven't seen Wilma in probably 10 years. Wilma said, "Of course! My, you're thinner than you were last time. I always thought you might have a pretty face, and now I can see that you do!" Yeah. How do you even respond to that? When I saw that she had brought all of her luggage, my eyebrows must have shot past my hairline, because she said, "Oh, don't worry, I'm not staying. I'm catching a bus in downtown Little Rock at 1 AM tonight to go to Florida and see my grandkids, so I'm just going to take a cab from here in time to catch the bus." The eyebrows stayed up, but she paid no mind. My poor grandmother was stuck listening to Wilma blab for hours. Finally, around 8:00, my aunt Linda marched into the living room and told my grandmother that she had been going too strong, and she had to go to bed at 9:00 or she would be too exhausted the rest of the week. Wilma finally got the hint and called her taxi--I guess she sat in the bus station for the next few hours.

Here are the questions that will likely forever be left unanswered that I have about this siutation, and this lady.
1. How do you just not mention that you are coming from California to Arkansas ahead of time?
2. Why do you fly from California and then take a BUS to Florida?
3. Why would you presume your 80 year old cousin, who you see MAYBE once every 2 years and are not all that close to, wants to stay up yacking with you until midnight?
4. What would you have done, in that taxi a mile from her house, if your cousin wasn't home?
5. A BUS? To FLORIDA?

Now, I know that my precious Aunt Joyce, my grandmother's sister-in-law, is reading this, and that she too got a visit from adorable cousin Wilma. Aunt Joyce, please don't be mad at me for saying all of these things. I know that you guys love Wilma, but really...you have to admit this was blog-worthy!

The rest of the trip was thoroughly enjoyable. We got to see our friends Kevin and Robin, and their new son Ryan along with their almost-2 year old Noah, who could be Ethan's twin. We were able to see lots of family and friends at my grandmother's birthday party. If only my dad had been driving a little slower, we could have all been the proud owners of a lifetime supply of deer jerky, too!