The boys are having a sleepover tonight - Tyler, Layne and Carter. Tyler and Layne went with me to Jodi's party and then Carter joined them for the ride home. Since they know Grandma so well, they asked if we could please stop at a gas station for a treat and a drink. This was, of course, after I had gotten them all secured in the backseat. I dreaded the thoughts of having to keep track of all three of them in the store but I'm so easily manipulated when it comes these little people! All the way to the gas station, I rehearsed the rules. After unbuckling Layne, we went in and spent forever trying to decide. Tyler was getting "spicy, hot jerky because he'd taken his fart pill already" so he wouldn't be stinking up my house. I'm not sure what kind of pill he was talking about but he had Layne and Carter convinced they'd taken one too. We finally get everything picked out and ready to pay for and the two older boys decide they need to go to the bathroom. Fine. I need some tainted crushed ice anyway. Now we're standing in line to pay and Layne announces to everyone, "I need go poop. I need go poop." Good grief. Stuff is paid for now. Layne is taken care of. Once again they're all strapped in the truck. The cabin is secure. Their drinks are accessible and treats are opened. I climb in behind the wheel and just sit there. I'm exhausted! There is no way I ever would have had four kids if there would have been car seats and booster seats and seatbelt laws! Or if I would have had four kids, they would have been spaced about 10 years apart! I remember loading all four kids in the back of my orange VW Beetle and heading to Springville from Delta; thinking nothing of it. The kids played in the back from one end to the other. Wow, times have certainly changed!
I failed to mention the new culinary delight Tyler created on the way home. Grampa had a partial can of mixed nuts he'd left in the truck. As for mixed, I'm not sure. Looked to me to just be peanuts but the boys wanted to eat them. Tyler immediately took some and folded a piece of jerky around them and called it his Peanut Sandwich. He swore it was delicious but I declined his invitation to sample one. Call me chicken.