We plucked ourselves out of our groove (as in rut) this weekend and headed down to old PA where we settled comfortably into the rut of my parents. It's always nice to hand the reins over to them for a day or two and revert back to childishness--complete with jostling, bickering, and bitching about the radio station in the back seat of the buick.
We went on a mini-tour of Pittsburgh and stared like bumpkins. We had sandwiches piled high with cole slaw and fries (Odd, perhaps. Delicious, certainly). We allowed ourselves to be drugged into complacence with a steak dinner and tricked into walking around SuperWalMart. We sprawled on the carpet and watched Iron Chef.
And then, as if terrified at the speed of our regression, we waved a panicked goodbye, threw the clean laundry into the car, and skirted the leading edge of the storm that chased us home.
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