"C'mon. It'll be fun." Steve replies, looking at me from his favorite spot in our house: the toilet.
"I feel ugly. I don't want to see people. I don't want to leave our hobbit hole." I joke (half joke).
"You never want to leave your hobbit hole; but, you gotta. Three weeks." He gets up and wiggles his eyebrows at me, kisses my head and shrugs as he heads out, solo.
Hmmmm... "If this is the hole...am I a hobbit?" I wonder, alone in our house for the millionth night in a row.
Yep. Yep yep yep. Big fat Yep.
Shit. I'm not just a hobbit. I'm Bilbo friggin' Baggins, chapter 1.
Three more weeks. We wouldn't be leaving the hobbit hole, had it not been for talk of adventures and pipe dreams and stubborn follow-through.
Shit shit shit (literally...thinking about it does that to me...)
Hmmmmm ... I'm thinking. "It is pretty quiet in here." I take stock. Me, all alone and glued to a screen. I'm humming and hawing.
"I guess this is what we agreed on," I reason. "Leave before too many things hold us down. It will be fun."
I could demand we stay, but that's not a solution. Chapter 2 begins somewhere.
And besides, us Baggins's are too stubborn to be left behind.
Three.More.Weeks!
(side-note: I do realize how insanely blessed we are to be able to get to "adventure", and I am really thankful for the opportunity. I love to story tell, so please allow for some "poetic license" and melodrama as I recount our adventures)
