October 4, 2006
It’s a long road home…
When many of our relatives heard that Dave and I would be spending a whole month together they started placing bets. How long would it be before we were back to true form – at each other’s throats and fighting like cats and dogs? After all, when we were little Mom couldn’t leave us in a room alone for more than five minutes without somebody crying – and more likely than not at least one of us bloody and bruised. Those of you who generously gave us until Day 29 should start collecting your winnings.
I’m joking… sort of. Honestly, we’re both tired and grouchy and just ready to be home. Besides being in major Abbie/Luke/Landon withdrawals, we’re both missing simple little things that feel like home to us. Dave’s missing his truck, his tractor and his Pearl dog (not to mention the previously mentioned Burger King fix.) I have to admit that those are pretty good reasons to be a little on the cranky side, but I’ve got a double dose of obnoxious. Yes, I miss my own piano, my own bed (you have no idea how sick I am of that horrible lopsided sofa bed!), and my Sophie dog, but the idea of leaving Kazakhstan without Maggie and Ryn is killing me. Just thinking about my girls still being here and me being on the other side of the planet without them is making me more than a little fractious and unpleasant.
In fact, everything is making me irritable. This afternoon on the flight from Kokshetau to Almaty, Dave had nasty coffee breath and then went to sleep. Every time he even breathed in my direction I had fantasies of knocking a few teeth out so I could force-feed him a bunch of those little Listerine breath strips. I kept trying to wake him up and force him to chew gum, but he’d just roll over and breathe all over the poor folks in the next row. As ugly as it was, I couldn't help thinking "better them than me." I was ready to hurt him – until I realized my breath was every bit as bad. It’s a wonder he didn’t throw me off the plane before we landed.
When we got to Almaty we realized we only had a few hours until we had to catch a midnight flight to Frankfurt, so it didn’t make sense for us to try to check into a hotel or go back to the apartment. Instead, we had to figure out how to kill time in Almaty. Dave had already been good as long as he could stand it, but what do you think we did to torment him even further? We spent the rest of our wait time just hanging out at the Ram store. The man was “malled” out before we even left Kokshetau, and now he’s stuck roaming around yet another mall. He was not a happy camper.
His misery was ever-so-slightly lessened when we found a place in the food court that had fried chicken, fries, and corn on the cob. It got even better when we found a Baskin-Robbins stand. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he got “happy”, but Dave can always eat ice cream. But it wasn’t banana popsicles, so I’m still not happy and not looking to be happy any time soon!
