This past weekend, we blew out to San Antonio and back within twenty-four hours. We’re not in the habit of doing such quick trips, but since it was my father-in-law’s 60th surprise party, we thought it would be well worth the effort.
I ran my fifteen miles on Thursday night, Wes ran his fifteen miles on Friday morning, and after four hours in the car on Friday afternoon driving out there, we were both feeling it. Our pain was a glorious reminder of calories burned, which gave us ample reason/excuse to enjoy the food once we got to the party. I’m not sure Coach was all that surprised by the party, but he seemed very excited to see the Faulkettes. And who could blame him? They are party animals, after all.
Wes and I were excited to see his cousins, their wives, and, oh yeah, all the tiny little people running around them that aren’t so tiny or little anymore!
I didn’t get a picture with the littlest little of the bunch because after Wes made a goofy face at her (which is his normal face, unfortunately), she was having NONE of the Faulks. Thanks a lot, Wes!
(And he had a funeral visitation right before we left Houston, which is why he’s dressed up. And I’m too cheap to color my hair, which is why my roots are so gray in that picture. Holy cow, y’all! Wouldn’t have known I was barreling towards gray that quickly had I not seen this picture!)
Speaking of feeling my age, I was pretty much floored when a beautiful teenage girl came out into the backyard and came up and gave me a hug… and it took me a second to realize who she was. Fortunately, she had her name stitched onto her swim team jacket, so I was able to confirm that, yes, this was the same pint-sized tot who had been one of the “bubble girls” at our wedding. Have we been married that long?! I felt even older when her younger brother (who is as tall as me now) started asking Wes and his cousins what they bench and squat. He’s too young to care about things like that, right? (Incidentally, Wes and his cousin, Russell, tied for best response to that question. Russell told him, “Well, I just lift my kids, honestly,” and Wes said, “Squat and bench? Well, I’m squatting on this bench right now,” while patting the kiddie picnic table he sat on. Love that man, y’all.)
We spent a long time that night chatting with people who recognized “Wesley” and had all kinds of wonderful things to say about him. He recognized about half of them. Oh, I kid! He recognized a lot of folks, introduced me to the great majority of them, and really seemed to enjoy kicking back and relaxing with Coach.
And, wow — he’s marathon thin these days, isn’t he? As is Jim, who ran 13.1 miles the week before his birthday just to say he’d done it. You know. Just because.
We headed back to Nana and Coach’s house for the night, where Emma lost another tooth while brushing her teeth. Good dental hygiene is leading her straight to toothlessness, y’all.
The next morning, we spent a few hours watching the girls play in the treehouse and torment the dogs. (Actually, the only one they tormented was the one who loves to be tormented. So it’s all good.) Then, after a great lunch, we were back on the road… where we had a few stops just outside the city limits, thanks to Emmy and some trouble she was having with puffy tacos. Fried, fabulous, and furious on a little digestive system, like any good Mexican food. She survived, though!
Thankful for the opportunity to take even quick trips like these to see family!