Bikes to Babies

A few weeks ago I got on a train. Because, honestly. I was so done with Chicago.

You hear that Chicago? DONE. No more of your WIND. No more of your LIGHTS. No more of your CROWDS.

Except for where would I go? My family's in Ohio so... I think I'll go to Missouri.

Wait--What?

I took a train to St. Louis to meet a biking partner and relative stranger. But biking partners are winners always. No need for background knowledge. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Seriously. Harmless:

So my harmless stranger and I set off with a notion to head in the direction of Bardstown, Kentucky. Which is sort of silly. Because I had nothing in Bardstown, Kentucky. I had never even heard of Bardstown, Kentucky. But The Stranger had a friend there. And, being merely the annoying tag-along, I had no preference for direction. So ride we did.

And despite the parts where I was convinced I was deranged for deciding to do this little tour, biking was fun. Really fun. And pretty.

And fast!

20? Pleeease. I could beat that with my eyes closed.

...Okay not really. Well I mean, I could. But it would be on a nice downhill. And I wouldn't have my eyes closed.

Maybe he would.

He seems to like having his eyes closed. But not me.

Except for here's the thing about this 'him' guy. You see this seemingly relaxed pose?

Oh um. He's actually in extreme pain. And laying like this because he can't really stand. Let alone ride a bicycle for another 150 miles. Because he is an old man with old man back problems. That flare up at the most inopportune times. Well. I suppose there isn't really an opportune time for one's back to go out...

Anyway. The stranger-inclusive leg of the trip was cut a bit short.

Which is unfortunate. Because now? Well now I'm not exactly on a bicycle touring adventure.

Now I'm a nanny in rural Ohio. Which means I'm a housewife with no husband. Also no catty housewife peers.

And those days when I was thinking I was delusional for hopping on a bicycle to nowhere? My mind is frantically archiving every demented moment. Because I'll need to quickly and efficiently access those moments as I'm making yet another bland, kid-friendly meal or wiping my billionth drop of milk from the table. And it is really too bad that I don't have more archives.

Summer? Start over? Please?

So no. I'm no longer treking randomly across the middle of the United States with a few smelly articles of clothing. In fact. Instead of never having the opportunity to do laundry, I am forced to do multiple loads a day for two dirty little boys.

But you know? At least having lots of clothes to clean means occasionally I get to stumble upon something like this:

Which gets its own little mind archive, you know?

IRON MAN!