How Far Wrong Can Mom Go on One Tank of Gas?

Today was warmer, and gloriously sunshiny and beautiful.  I managed to make a fair hash of the afternoon, though.  At our first visit to the library a couple weeks ago, I picked up a paper with information about the local homeschool group, and I’d gotten what seemed like good directions to their meeting today.  The kids and I were excited about getting together with some other homeschoolers, and, after Ed went over the directions with me, we set off after lunch.  K. started crying early on that the bright sunshine was hurting her eyes (and no, she won’t wear sunglasses), and by the time I realized that we were not going the right direction she had cranked it up to “I’m going to be carsick!”  T. didn’t help things any by telling her that we had gone to Mexico (which is certainly not beyond the realm of possibility, but I couldn’t get that lost on one tank of gas) and pointing out all the Mexican landmarks we were passing.  By the time I figured out how to get back to where I’d made the wrong turn, it was so late that there didn’t seem much point.  We went back home, feeling grumpy and defeated.  Good Old Ed laid aside his electrical wiring (which, he later admitted, had gotten the best of him anyway) and loaded us back into the car and drove us straight to the meeting.  He also, very helpfully, pointed out to me where I had gone wrong (I’d followed the directions, but, he says, I should have realized where the directions were mistaken).  The meeting was over by the time we got there, but there were lots of moms and kids still hanging around, and we met quite a few women (Ed loves chatting with moms, and does it much better than I do) and the kids played.  We talked with one mom in particular who was has eight children and was very friendly.  She was holding her youngest, an adorable seven month old boy, and I had a twinge of baby envy.  Hauling laundry up the stairs tonight, though, I thought of doing laundry for eight children and felt grateful that I’m not!