Milk in the Car and I Don't Care

My four day trip home was a success!!  Not that I thought it would be anything but.  It had truly been four months since I felt like doing a happy dance.  I was so excited about this trip, in fact, that I seriously did NOT plan out anything for the husband and kids to do while I was away.  I didn't write down any instructions.  I didn't lecture about doing homework and practicing piano.  I just packed my bag and hugged them and got the heck outta there!  I'll tell you, that's not typical of me.  I'm a bit of a control freak.  I worry about little things like the counters having crumbs on them, the toilet seat being left up and the blankets not being folded up on the couch.  Don't judge.  I am what I am, no apologies.  But this time, I didn't worry about ANY of that stuff!  My husband even posted on Facebook about a "bacon bomb" going off in our kitchen.  Did I call home and tell him where the cleaning spray was located?  Nope, I just kept on having fun with all of my peeps.

I'm pretty stinking proud of myself.  I truly *let it all go*!!  Yeah, me!

So when I returned yesterday I expected things wouldn't be *perfection*.  I have to say, pleasantly surprised.  They survived.  Eric did laundry.  I saw NO evidence of said bacon bomb.  Now, don't go jumping to conclusions, they are men (boys) after all, and without my *gentle guidance* a few things did go by the wayside.  Aidan missed his Cooking club and his gym clothes never made it home to be washed.  Eric went to the grocery store (yeah him), but left the milk in the back of the car most of the day.  The dog rolled around in new mulch and became brown instead of white.  But ask me if I care????

I do NOT!  It was worth it.  They survived!  I had a terrific visit with everyone.  

I went and got milk today.  

The end

What Happens When you don't just say "It's fine."

I'm a talker.  If you know me at all, you know I can talk on just about any subject and most definitely have an opinion about said subject.  I went to the bank this week and the teller there ALWAYS asks me "How do you like California so far??"  I discovered on my first visit that apparently she can tell that our account originated in Missouri because our account number "is so strange."  So, over the course of these 4 months she has learned where I'm from, why we moved here, how many kids we have and how to correctly pronounce "O'Fallon" which is "such a strange name for a town."  Our bank is in the SafeWay where I shop and is very small so it's usually the same teller.
Usually I tell her "It's fine" or "The weather is certainly better" because my momma raised me right and I know how to have a polite conversation.  But, this week, she wasn't taking that for an answer.  Here's the gist of the conversation:
Teller:  How are you liking California so far?
Me:  It's good, thanks.
Teller:  Is it really that different from the midwest?
Me:  Ummm, YES!  (I think my facial expression gave away QUITE a bit on this one because she seemed genuinely shocked.)
Teller:  But, you like California better, right?
Me:  It's an adjustment.
Teller:  But, you like it better here, RIGHT?  I mean there's NO comparison, right?
Me:  It may be too soon to answer that.
Teller:  (shaking her head)  But, you love it.  You do.  (This was more a statement than a question).
Me:  Actually, I don't.  But, thanks.

I may have to go to a different bank branch next time.  This woman REALLY needs me to like it here and I'm not good at faking it.  I'm a midwest girl.  I like my seasons to really BE seasons.  I like neighbors who wave and say "hi."  Hopefully, I'll rub off on the people out here a little.  I think they could use a good dose of the  midwest.