Trauma in Sedona Part II--The Rats are Coming

So as I worked my way through the morning and did my best to put on my game face, I struggled mightily to do the simple tasks. I felt a lot like Hunter must feel on a regular basis--Shower, yes a shower would be good to take this film off, but maybe I should check the scores from yesterday's NCAA tournament games, just to make sure that my bracket is completely destroyed. How the hell did Davis Love III miss the cut at the TPC? He was leading after the first round--Holy Crap an 83! He's gotta feel like hell. How did Tiger do?--oh yeah, shower. The morning pretty much continued on this way through Pants, socks, shoes, keys, water--more water, etc. Finding the proper motivation and focus was proving itself to be a difficult task. After much debate, we decided that I would take the kids and Abby over to Shari's house to meet Gramma G and Joannie for breakfast, while Kim cleaned the house for the two realtors stopping by this morning. When she finished cleaning, she was going to join us for breakfast and we would depart to Sedona soon after. (this is a point of future contention in this story and I would not bring it up except that I am trying to avoid Kim blurting out some comment like "That is not what we discussed!" or "You always make everybody else look like an idiot--that isn't what happened." For the record, this and all postings are based solely on my perspective and the interpretation of facts may always be in dispute by any and all parties mentioned herein. These are the facts as I interpreted them to be in my twisted mixed-up head, and I really don't have an alternate point of reference. Suffice it to say in this instance that Kim's recollection of our conversation did not occur the same way. Now back to our feature presentation). After much confusion and deliberation, I got the kids and the dog loaded up in the Opamobile and headed to Shari's house for "breakfast."
We got to Shari's house and were immediately attacked by the rats. This is not a unique experience and anybody who has experienced hospitality Shari style would understand the pleasure one can derive from the infinite high-pitched yelping one encounters as they enter the foyer of echoes that comprises Shari's entryway. Bringing Abby over only heightens the rats' enthusiasm and with my hangover in full swing, it was the greeting I was trying to avoid. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Shari had indeed been making breakfast. There were two packs of Safeway Blueberry muffins (which were absolutely fantatsic by the way--we had been repeatedly disappointed with Safeway's baked goods over the past several years and I can't recall a recent time that Kim or I had bought anything from their bakery, but these were damn good), two bags of bagels and the distinct crackling of bacon being prepared. She had even set the dining room table and some kind of freshly brewed vanilla coffee masked the scent of the bacon grease if only for a moment.
We said our pleasantries and the kids were wound up (not quite as much as the rats, but wound up none the less). Lauren and I tried to share a blueberry muffin, but Gramma G and Joannie decided that the other 6 muffins that were destined to sit on Shari's counter for the next six weeks before Shari finally threw them away didn't look as tasty as the one that Lauren had picked out. So instead of enjoying this muffin with my daughter, I was fighting the two crazy old ladies off like they were buzzards at a fresh kill. Poor Lauren only got three bites (which was all she wanted in the first place because she is three) and I was left to forage for scraps and crumbs while the two of them justified eating our muffin because in their nutritional analysis yesterday, they found out that the 900 calories they would consume from eating a lo-fat muffin could easily be enjoyed in another way by eating so many other things that they enjoy. Whatever. All I know is that they ravaged our muffin and in their minds it was all right. Old and Crazy should be interchangable words.
By the time we finished the muffins, Shari had finished cooking the two pounds of bacon that we would obviously need to get through the morning (so much for that 900 calorie muffin theory). She then asked if anybody wanted eggs. I told her that I was going to make a Poppy Joe bagel sandwich, but would only need one egg (See The Pre Holiday Weigh-In). Hunter wanted the same thing, but wanted his egg to be runny. So I told her to break my yolk and leave his together. She interpreted this as my wanting my egg scrambled or at least mutilated beyond recognition. I decided that it would be better if I just made my own egg and put together a damn good attempt at the masterpiece that is the Poppy Joe bagel sandwich. I even burnt the bagel as a tribute to the inventor (not really as a tribute--I just can't work Shari's toaster apparently, but Poppy Joe doesn't need to know that). All in all, considering that I don't believe she has ever prepared a breakfast for another human being, she did a great job. Everybody got plenty to eat, and she even asked us three or four times how the bacon was cooked--crispy enough for you? It was like the ghost of Poppy Joe had invaded Shari's body. It was pretty special as you might imagine.
We finished breakfast and sat around for a little while, wondering where Kim was. Maybe the house was a little bit more trashed than I realized and I didn't want to interrupt her, so we just talked, digested, checked the weather report in Sedona. It was supposed to be a high of 72 today. It was also Saturday which meant that it crossed over two different weeks of Spring Break, which meant there would probably be about 30 gazillion people in Sedona today. I again brought up my concerns regarding bringing the dogs/rats with us this time. Kaylee and Savannah had never been before and there was a better than average chance that they were going to drown when they got trapped in a puddle. We also would be dealing with so many other hikers on our trail that we couldn't let them off their leashes which meant we would have to traverse the slick rocks while attached to eager and anxious animals either pulling us ahead when we weren't ready, or holding us back when we tried to move ahead. The third quandry was that as the day moved later and later, we would not be able to stop and eat with the dogs because they have never been left alone in a vehicle for more than 2 minutes and would likely empty their subsantial bowels into our upholstery in protest. I felt that this rationale would more than hold water, but Shari was dead-set on bringing the rats. "They would have so much fun." How could I possibly argue with that?
At 9:30, Kim called my cell phone wondering where we were. Shari answered the phone and told her that we were still at the house and wanted to know where she was. Kim was under the impression that I was coming back to our house after breakfast for some reason. I believe that this confusion took place for a couple of reasons. Most likely, it took place because originally Gramma G and Joannie were going to come over after breakfast and we were going to leave from here. At some point, we realized that it would make more sense to depart from Shari's house because it was a little farther north and there was no point in backtracking. As I searched my bleary memory banks, I don't recall having this conversation with Kim, but I thought this morning we were all clear and on the same page. I guess that we weren't, because Kim had run a few errands, packed the car, filled the tank with gas and was patiently waiting for our return. About 15 minutes later, she showed up at Shari's and we began loading up the car. Abby stood in front of the door with a look like Mike Singletary daring the oposing running back to try to come through the middle of the field. There was no possible way we were getting out of the house without the dog. The high pitched yelping that was permeating my skull made it clear that the rats would be coming along as well.
All three of them jumped into the minivan with us. So now, not only were we forced to endure a day with the rats, they were also going to ride on our laps all the way up to Sedona--life is a rapturous boulliabaise sometimes, treat after treat. Shari had to stop for gas for the Endeavor, so we deposited her canine imposters through the two inch opening in her window. I needed some separation from the yelping freaks. 90 minutes in the minivan was tough enough to endure with Hunter screaming that Lauren is touching him and Lauren denying any involvement whatsoever. Couple that with the majestic utterances of "Are we there yet?" (Thank you again Jordan and Jamie) every thirty seconds and you have the makings of Suburban utopia. Throw in the high-pitched skin-peeling yelps of the rat brigade and you have the recipe of Dad veering off the mountain at 75 mph. I have enough challenges staying on the road when I am trying--you don't want to encourage me.