there's no place like home

Tonight, as we were preparing to eat dinner, Anderson asked, "Mom, do you remember any outhouses when you were a little girl?" I immediately thought, "You don't think I'm that old, do you?", but I have to remind myself that anything that happened before 1998 is old to him. I said, "Yeah, I think I do remember one, as a little girl." He asked, "Did it stink?" I told him it didn't, that I could remember. "Why don't we see outhouses anymore?" he asked, to which I replied, "Well, whenever we go to Zimbabwe, maybe we'll see some." He quickly responded, "I don't want to go to Zimbabwe." It's not that he doesn't want to travel. He is just concerned with how he is going to get there. You see, he is going through this "fear of flying" phase, even though he's been flying in airplanes and traveling with us his whole life. So, I replied, "Well, your dad and I want you to be exposed to the way other people live so you always understand how blessed you are." He quickly replied, "Then let's go to downtown Raleigh." I had to laugh. He just doesn't want to be pushed outside his comfort zone, which for him is anywhere close to home or within driving distance. And frankly, he's not alone. As the old adage goes, "He comes by it honestly."

My mom is like a homing pigeon--not because of her directional capabilities, although they are pretty good. But I say that because I am convinced she has an inherent magnet that always pulls her home. I don't care where she is or how much fun she is having or how long she has been there, I can guarantee you there is at least a large part of her thinking the entire time she is gone, "I'm ready to go home." It goes without saying that she and Dorothy have a common mantra: "There's no place like home." In fact, I bet if a magical pair of ruby slippers actually existed, she'd pay top dollar for them.

Obviously, she doesn't travel a lot. I am absolutely certain that I got my love of traveling and seeing new places from my dad, although we don't travel the same way. Dad is one of those guys who would love to just get in the car and drive wherever the car leads. He'd have no agenda, and he'd certainly not book a hotel room in advance. I will never forget looking for a hotel and pulling up at a Shoney's Inn (yes, the same Shoney's as the restaurant) in Richmond, Virginia, where we were attending a wedding, and telling my father, "Dad, you do not sleep at a Shoney's, you eat at a Shoney's." I could only imagine that the room smelled like old syrup, just like the restaurant. I told him that if he stayed there, I'd be sleeping in the car, so my sister, "The Peacemaker", said she'd go look at the room and see if it was clean for me before we booked a room. As it turns out, it didn't smell like syrup. It smelled like vomit. Thank the Lord we stayed at a Hampton Inn, or something like that. Whatever it was, I think it was clean and free of any distinguishable stenches.

I'm thankful that Paul and I share a love of traveling. And Anderson shares it with us, but he's just wary of the planes right now. As for Bennett, he seems to like it and adjusts well wherever we go, which is a blessing. We are trying to plan a trip during Anderson's Spring break. We've looked into going to Bermuda, or skiing out west, but we may just decide to go somewhere that we can drive to easily. I'm sure that is Anderson's preference.

Regardless of where we go, I know we will have so much fun, I know that we will stay in a nice, clean hotel (as I am fairly high maintenance when it comes to where I sleep at night), and I know that after a week away, we'll all be ready to come home. So, I guess in some ways, when it comes to traveling, I am like my dad--I love to visit other places. But at the end of a vacation, there is one thing Mom and I agree on...

There's no place like home.