February 23, 2009

Baggage? Check!

“See. Not too bad, right?”

Mom and I step out of the huge revolving doors of Bradley International Airport and into the hazy Connecticut sunlight. I shrug in response to her question, giving my suitcase a violent pull as it gets stuck in a sidewalk crack.

Mom smiles brightly, ignoring my glum expression. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looks up and down the airport service road, hoping to spot Gretchen’s huge Lexus SUV. “Gor-geous weather,” she sighs. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s ok.” I plop down on top of my suitcase and pull my iPod out of my backpack. It is actually a beautiful day, with a warm breeze keeping the July heat from settling on my shoulders. However, I refuse to give Mom the satisfaction of admitting that any part of this trip is pleasurable.

We had spent the past week tiptoeing around each other, and I had been secretly hoping that she would change her mind about this unnecessary interruption to my summer vacation. But Saturday came quickly, and before I knew it we were locking up our bungalow and headed to the dreary North. Although it didn't look too dreary so far ... But still.

To show her that I was still not happy with her this morning, I had planned on giving her the silent treatment for the entire trip. Maybe even longer. But in the end, I could only keep quiet for about 10 minutes of the car ride to the airport. I broke when Mom asked me a question about “some actor Jack Efron.” I just HAD to correct her.

Now that I think about, she probably did it on purpose.

“There she is!” Mom cries suddenly, dropping her bag and waving her arms wildly. “Gretchen! Over here!”

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