Watch out Africa, here I come


I’m starting to panic, people. On the day many of you read this, I will be headed to North Africa or possibly already there. As I type though, I still have two weeks before Doo and I leave our kids, semi-trained dog, and slightly neglected house for 15 days of desert adventure and exotic-food fun. Yikes! In the words of Willy Wonka, “So much time, so little to do! Strike that. Reverse it.”

For starters, we’re considering updating our will, which has remained untouched since 1999 when we abandoned our firstborn for fruity cocktails and Bahamian sun. As his guardian, we appointed the only sibling we had out of nine who was married at the time, and left the rest to the lawyer. Since then, we’ve added three more offspring, and the aforementioned sibling now has seven children of his own. What are the odds he’d like four more? Exactly. Problem is, it’s doubtful anyone else would be willing to take them on either, should we perish in a fiery explosion or airline disaster. So, we’re leaving things status quo. Uncle Todd already has a 12-passenger conversion van; let’s max that baby out!

Next on my list is to organize a first aid/field medicine kit. Doo and I received our requisite inoculations for tetanus, hepatitis and typhoid (because, according to our doctor, “The world is covered in a layer of poo; it’s just thicker in some areas.”) but I still need to round up pills for everything from constipation and diarrhea to vomiting and indigestion (both ends of the spectrum so to speak!). Non-Spongebob bandaids and military-grade insect repellant would be good, and I should probably take Benadryl, Sudafed and Robitussin to cover the cold I’ll catch on the plane. Bring it on, malaria!

Finally, I need to sort out the house and the kids’ schedules for the two sets of grandparents who graciously agreed to babysit. Unfortunately, Doo and I are the type of people who throw parties just so the dusting and scrubbing gets done, which is to say our home is generally in a state of sanitary neglect. But, my parents will actually be staying here, so at some point, I need to bath everything, children included, in Clorox. Once that’s taken care of, and the fridge and pantry are stocked for the apocalypse, then all I have to do is organize carpool for soccer, dance, tumbling, swimming and summer-school PE; post the dog and cat-care schedules in fifteen convenient locations; pre-coordinate playdates and birthday parties; and oh yeah, pack.

Farewell, dear readers!  Until I write again, bid me serenity. Peace out.


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