Day 2: "RV there yet?"

5:30 am came early. So early, in fact, that some of us couldn't get out of bed until 5:45. With showers and breakfast and reorganization, we were heading to the airport about 25 minutes later than was ideal. But, our driver was the intrepid Aunt Jill, who found a non-trafficky, super secret speedy way to Midway. According to our skycap, we arrived with three minutes to spare for checked bags. Eek. The lesson?  Mama needs to get her sorry self out of bed earlier when getting on a plane with 11 bags and six people. Cutting it close is no bueno. 

  Despite me, we made our flight and it was EMPTY. So empty, in fact, that I felt compelled to do mile high yoga. 

  We safely arrived in SLC and was picked up by the fabulous guys at Canyon Transportation... 

...were reunited with Tucker....

  ...got a week's worth of groceries...

  ...and then hit the road with the windows down.

RV observation #1:  it is freaking LOUD when this beast is rolling. I mean, yell from the passenger seat to the driver's seat loud. Jason's solution?  See ya suckers...I'm putting on my music. 

RV observation #2:  RV life may turn boys into men. Already, it's made my big boys stand taller and embrace responsibility like a boss.  Theyput away and organized all of the groceries themselves. Seriously. And then, be still my heart, Spencer Tanis Pett, a full-fledged teenager, whose trash very rarely finds its way to a trash can, proclaimed with all seriousness, "Boys, let's take a minute and clean this place up." There are no words. It's an RV miracle. 

RV observation #3:  Like one of Jason's partners remarked, driving an RV is like driving your living room. Carter calls it a house on wheels, but this house gets blown around by gusts of wind. And makes you feel a bit seasick if you walk around in it while it's hurling down the interstate. It is a full-on, focused, two hands on the wheel driving situation. Not that Mr. Lead Foot slows down much while driving his living room. Whatever works, man. Just get me to the KOA.  Landon's cut from the same cloth as his daddy. He keeps saying, "This is our house. This goes SUPER FAST!"

On the drive to our (adjusted) destination, (because we are all hungry and dirty and exhausted and cannot drive the five hours to the Grand Tetons, much to Jasons's chagrin, but Landon is so beyond tired that he is becoming feral.  The child just KNOCKED ON MY GLASSES TO GET MY ATTENTION), Carter began chanting, "STARVING STARVING STARVING," to which I responded, "We'll have supper soon," which got me grinning.  Every time in in the West, it's like a switch flips and I revert back to my native tongue, that wholesome-sounding Midwestern dialect, with quaint words and flat, pronounced vowels. When in Rome, speak like the Romans. (Carter now is super interested in making supper. I think it must sound exotic to ears. He asked me eighty billion times when we can make supper. Supper, supper, supper. He digs the word, just like his mama). 

Quote(s) of the Day: 

Carter:  I want to write RV. How do I write it?

Me: R-V. 

C:  I know that's what it's called. But I want to write it. 

Me: R-V. 

C: ARG!! I'm asking you seriously!!! HOW DO YOU WRITE RV???

Me:  Dude. The letter r and then the v. 

C:  Oh. 

  ETA to KOA is 10 minutes. I'm going to make supper and beds and read stories and read the fabulous book of essays my sister gave me and go to sleep. Can't. Wait. 

Assuming the feral child will sleep on the pack and play mattress in the shower, of course. 😳