while my kids vacation in the netherworld...
[click for bigger image]Some time this afternoon, my kids will be on their way to Boston with my mother, her sister and most of their collective grandchildren. I tend to worry when my kids go away without me. You know how that worry is; it's like a slow-moving car full of horrible ideas that gathers speed until it's an out-of-control semi hurtling off of a cliff.
Oh, I trust my mother implicitly. It's other people I don't trust. I think of highway wrecks and bad weather and sinister roller coasters and, in the ridiculous notions that come to you at 3am, the ghost of the Redcoats taking hold of the kids while they are on some historic tour.
They'll be gone most of the week and then they'll be home just long enough for me to throw their clothes in the laundry and pack them up once again, and they'll head off for another trip, this time with their father and his girlfriend and her kids, to Toronto.
They are going to make a stop in Syracuse, New York to stroll around the New York State Fair on Friday evening. And this is where that hurtling semi of worry crashes and burns. No, I'm not worried about simple amusement park rides or escaped wild pigs or the way kids have of getting lost in the crowd. It's that poster you see up there.
That's the poster for the New York State Fair. It is obvious from viewing that picture that my ex is taking my kids into the land of Satan, where evil bunny rabbits hide in the bushes and dragons come galloping down the countryside, ready to eat small children like so much cotton candy or toupee wearing cows perch in the cornstalks, waiting to tear babies from their parents while the evil, cross-eyed girl turns their parents into butter sculptures. Oh, you think I'm the only one who sees that? Hell awaits you, State Fair revelers! [more like that here].
This is the curse of the imaginative mind. You can't turn it off at will, nor can you control the dark depths to which that imagination will take you.
I'll be here all week, thank you, telling you about my nightmares and fretting the lack of text messages from my daughter.