Road Trips on the Worst of Terms

So Wayne and I are going to head back to the ol' stomping grounds tomorrow.

Mom and I have been having very awkward, disjointed conversations about Reba and when to put her to sleep over the past few weeks.

Last weekend I called her to tell her about the weekend's end results and after we hung up, she sent me a message on MSN to let me know Reba's getting worse daily.

Mr. Roberts, my knight in shining Superman boxers, offered to drive down this weekend so he can have a chance to get a few more things from his parents' basement and I can have the opportunity to say my goodbyes. Can I stress again how much this guy rocks my socks?

A dismal event to be sure, but I'm fairly excited about getting a grasp on my roots again (every 6 months or so I feel them slipping out on my grasp and I need to feel re-rooted).

But this weekend is about my baby girl..



The one with her tongue hanging out..