Next week at this time, we'll have landed in Merry Ol' England's Gatwick airport — provided we survive the long, long flight across the pond — and greeting the little English lad who makes the trip worthwhile.
Jack is the 5-year-old son of my son Derek and his wife Helen, a grandson who lives in the middle of the United Kingdom where he's raising his parents in a fine fashion.
He's bright, lively and full of imagination and he likes jokes and magic so we're trying to store some up to share.
Knock-knock jokes are his favorite so I've been reading the Boy's Life website. (Knock knock. Who's there? Nacho. Nacho who? Nacho cheese! It's mine!)
We've been planning this for a while so now it seems like we suddenly thought of it.
I keep telling myself to think England so I have enough cold-weather clothing.
I have British pounds in my purse and an English guidebook.
Marc is mentally preparing to drive on the wrong side of the road. I'm mentally preparing to deal with that.
It may be the last time we do this because we are getting older and the 12-hour sit in the airplane is becoming harder to bear.
I get restless and anxious and stressed.
To counteract this my doctor has loaded me with sleeping pills, pain pills, a neck collar and little face-masks.
I have Marc's new iPad to play Scrabble on and a tiny pillow.
I won't be blogging for awhile so bear with me and when I return, I promise to bring new stories and some good English knock-knock jokes, compliments of a 5-year-old funny boy.
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