In the Car

“So, kids, don’t forget. I’m leaving tomorrow and I won’t be back until Sunday night.”
“Where are you going?”
“Salt Lake City.”
“Why?”
“To see some friends.”
“What their names?”
“Heather and Jon.”
“Heather and Jon what?”
“Armstrong.”
“Are they related to Louis Armstrong?”
“Absolutely.”

13 Replies to “In the Car”

  1. You are going to spill the entire visit here, right????? PLEASE!!

    I want to be friends with them too…….

    Have a GREAT time, you deserve it!

  2. I don’t know what’s more impressive — the fact that you can lie undetected to your kids, or that they know who Louis Armstrong is. Whenever I try to lie to untitledson (untitledson: “What’s that in yo mouf?” me: “Raisins!” untitledson: “Lemme see!”), he always calls me out. He can smell those Junior Mints 20 feet away.

  3. “untitled,” try saying “potatoes.” That’s what always works for me when I’m eating something yummy and the little one asks what it is.

  4. Disembowelment was the inevitable destiny for all Stretch Armstrongs. Usually within the first day.

  5. I was linked here through Heather Armstrong’s site, Dooce, which I adore. I read it daily! After exploring your blog, I must say that I am impressed and amazed. You are a walking novel. I can’t imagine living through all of the things you have experienced, let alone seem to be doing well after it all. Wow. I hope you enjoy every moment of your visit with Heather. From her blog she seems like she would be the perfect vacation hostess. Wish I was there to chat with you two gals and have engaging conversation with meaning. Instead, I will be cleaning toilets and doing laundry here at home while answering the phone every two seconds and screaming at the kids. It’ll be swell…

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