Scape goat

As Paige pointed out to me on Friday before she left, it was all my fault that I wasn't going to where they were going. Well, yeah...

(I am no longer saying the name of the locale because every time I do, the tourist department finds me and makes comments on my blog or someone on Facebook tells me where to stay the next time I go. Have these people been reading what I have said? I'm not going back if I can help it.)

It was probably a mistake to spend a couple of hours with them Friday before they left because it made me wish that I was going with them in a way. To spend time with them, not spend time in the state of Missouri aka Misery in my book.

When they arrived at their destination, Mom called to say they had arrived. She also said that the girls wanted to take the helicopter ride, but Dad told them that I would be mad if they did.

Well, true, but I don't think that they are going to let a 5 year old and an 8 year old on the helicopter without adult supervision. Don't blame this on me being mad, blame this on the fact that there's no way either one of you would take them. Oh, wait, it's all my fault anyway because I'm not there and if I were...

Truth be known, without actual parental consent, we probably wouldn't be flying over Table Rock Lake or wherever the helicopter flies.

Which at this current point, I'm going to go off on a side discussion and come back to the one I was on. Table Rock Lake is nice, but what kind of site seeing are you going to see on this helicopter excursion? A view of the strip -- I don't think that two lane road that is packed when the shows let out -- is going to be all that impressive from the air. Well, it might be four lane in places. I guess you might be a glimpse of some Ozarks.

Certainly not like flying over the Badlands or the Grand Canyon or the Vegas strip.

OK, back to scapegoatness. The girls are going to want to do go-karts. There is a kiddie place where they can drive small ones themselves. When they can't do the big ones because Mom and Dad won't drive them (Dad had already told me that he wouldn't be doing it with them), those girls better not hear, "well, if Audra were here." They might even say it since I drove them in Brenham, but what they ought to be saying is, "if Daddy were here." You know, their daddy chose not to go as well, lest we forget.

I hope they are having a great time. And I hope I don't hear, "you should have gone," repeatedly when they get back.