Okay, not tomorrow. We're going on Sunday. Psych.
This is, of course, a last minute thing. We are not the kind of people who plan things months in advance and prepare and develop long packing lists and have every conceivable thing in our bag in case of every conceivable emergency.
We're the kind of people who decide to go half way around the world to a different hemisphere with two small children in tow, like, on a few days notice, as if we were going to a bed and breakfast just outside the city for the weekend or something, with a sweater and a hairbrush stuffed into a backpack.
That's just our way.
I know this might sound romantic, like we are footloose and fancy free and spontaneous and are kids are unsullied by rigid schedules and control freak trip planning, but we're also the kind of people who will get seated next to the control freak trip planners on the plane and eat all their carefully-prepared organic snacks and ask them to borrow one of the five brand new toothbrushes they remembered to buy and bring with them, just in case of an emergency.
And it was an emergency, because we didn't have toothbrushes and these people were going to have to spend 14 hours with us on a plane, smelling our horrible breath.
We love you, control freak trip planners.
Anyway, this trip isn't completely spontaneous. The plan has been on the map for awhile. David has an important show touring there and we planned on going for part of the tour and visiting the grandparents and friends and having a nice little work/vacation, but we thought it would be later on in May.
Then, this thing happened.
See, you may not know this but my husband has a very sexy job. He doesn't think it's sexy, in fact, he spends a good deal of time telling me how decidedly un-sexy his job is and how all he does is work on spread sheets. But in between all the Excel, he does things like meet with 'Fantastic World-Famous Celebrities". And the way he talks about these meetings with "Fantastic World-Famous Celebrities" is to work it into the middle of a completely inane discussion. Like this:
David: You know, Edie has been having loose stools all week.
Kim: I noticed they were a little green this morning.
David: "Fantastic World-famous Celebrity's Manager" called today. They want to meet with me tomorrow...I wonder if she's been eating too many avocados...
And when I get kinda excited and all gushy about how cool my husband is, he reminds me that he's just "paying the bills", like he's a steel worker or a coal miner or something.
So anyway, "Fantastic World-Famous Celebrity" wants to meet with David on a certain date and we re-arranged our trip to accommodate. As you can imagine, I haven't packed a thing, the house is a mess and Lucy has packed every single stuffed animal in her room into a suitcase and is insisting all her "friends" make the trip.
And with that, we're off to Sydney, people.
I'll be posting regularly from Down Under, so stay with me. I'll also be doing some food posts. I have a back log of great recipes for you and I'll be cooking and eating out in Sydney. I also want to go to Bill's, since I am big Bill Granger fan.
I think the first thing I'll do is a photo essay of the FREAKIN' 14 HOUR PLANE RIDE. Hopefully, we'll be sitting next to the Control Freak Trip Planners, with their scads of Wiggles DVDs' and Diego coloring books.
Say a prayer the plane doesn't fall into the ocean. Or explode on the runway.
I'm not joking. Say a prayer.