One special spring a few years back, our family air was marked in young love. My parents first Grandchild got engaged and we were thrilled.
Her bridal shower was three hours away in another county. As to be expected the McFarland women gathered up for the exciting road trip, that now stands infamous in our related history. A story to be told time and time again, I'm sure. Future generations of McFarland relatives will here about 'The Vomit Wagon' and 'The Hurl Hotel'.
And this is just recounting sentiments of the return trip home.
Here is what happened.
My mother is the architect of any family deal, being a holiday, social gathering, party and road trip.
She is the architect, director, supervisor, accountant and overall foreman of all deals. So each one of us in my family, young and old, cradle to grave understands whose boss. Mom is. And look, in close quarters and a moving vehicle it's just a darn good idea to follow her rules, no matter how old we get.
We are to be at the Pink House at 7 o'clock, sharp. Instructions are very specific. Mine in particular are,
"Ivey Mae please do not have your tits hanging out. And whatever you do, do not put on any of that god awful stinkin stuff you wear. Have the girls dressed decent and be on time. No excuses. Oh and yal'll are not to bring any of those animals. Leave all leashes and dogs at home. You can go back to that mess as soon as we return."
A LTTLE BIT OF IVEY
