The Best Laid Plans
It's amazing how the best laid plans, no matter how last minute they might be, can be ruined by a simple fact that's overlooked. That happens more often with the plans are last minute, but they seem to happen to me regardless of how far in advance I try to arrange things.
Like last year when I bought the tickets for myself, Simon, Malorie and Braden to go to the British Grand Prix. I checked with the kids that there was nothing major happening at school because we were going down to Silverstone in the caravan on the Thursday morning and staying until Monday at noon. There were no conflicts. Or so I was told.
Until three weeks before the race weekend. Malorie informed me that the race weekend fell smack dab in the middle of her two weeks' work experience. I was very lucky in that my best friend offered to let Malorie stay with her, and my step-son went with us in her place.
Today I tried to make plans for picking Malorie and Braden up from Gatwick on Tuesday. I've always regretted that it's such a long drive down there just to pick them up (or drop them off as I did earlier this summer) without seeing some of the sights. Ever since they left for Texas last month I've tried to make plans to stop at Hampton Court Palace on the way back this time. It's been years since I've been there, and Simon, Malorie and Braden have never been.
Then Simon came up with the idea that we find a hotel somewhere in that area for Monday night. I found a deal on a website for one of the major chains of hotels, and everything seemed perfect. No leaving our house in the middle of the night to get to Gatwick in time for the kids' 7.20 a.m. arrival. We'd have time to take the kids back to the hotel so they could have a wash after their long flight.
That's when Simon remembered that detail that threw all the plans into the trash can.
The dog.
Well crap.
Like last year when I bought the tickets for myself, Simon, Malorie and Braden to go to the British Grand Prix. I checked with the kids that there was nothing major happening at school because we were going down to Silverstone in the caravan on the Thursday morning and staying until Monday at noon. There were no conflicts. Or so I was told.
Until three weeks before the race weekend. Malorie informed me that the race weekend fell smack dab in the middle of her two weeks' work experience. I was very lucky in that my best friend offered to let Malorie stay with her, and my step-son went with us in her place.
Today I tried to make plans for picking Malorie and Braden up from Gatwick on Tuesday. I've always regretted that it's such a long drive down there just to pick them up (or drop them off as I did earlier this summer) without seeing some of the sights. Ever since they left for Texas last month I've tried to make plans to stop at Hampton Court Palace on the way back this time. It's been years since I've been there, and Simon, Malorie and Braden have never been.
Then Simon came up with the idea that we find a hotel somewhere in that area for Monday night. I found a deal on a website for one of the major chains of hotels, and everything seemed perfect. No leaving our house in the middle of the night to get to Gatwick in time for the kids' 7.20 a.m. arrival. We'd have time to take the kids back to the hotel so they could have a wash after their long flight.
That's when Simon remembered that detail that threw all the plans into the trash can.
The dog.
Well crap.
posted by Melinda at 8/20/2005 09:45:00 pm
1 Comments:
right..now that we have FOUR dogs, that REALLY messes up going somewhere.
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