It started out like any old Saturday morning. Don had made us breakfast and then I scooted outside to pull some weeds before the temperature soared up to “unbearable.” He came out and trimmed some tree and bush branches for me and then we took a load of debris to the dump.
After getting back, I raced him to the shower, but he pulled a fake and went back out to mow the lawn. (What a dedicated soul.) That’s when the fateful phone call came: an invitation to join my daughters at the latest Harry Potter movie, The Half-Blood Prince. The fact that the viewing was to take place some 300 miles away was a minor detail that my support system here at home graciously overlooked. Mom and Don promised to get along without me and encouraged me to take my time and enjoy the break, although Mom said she wouldn’t go across the street for Harry Potter and thought a nice John Wayne western would have
made much more sense. Actually, there was very little of any of the plan that made sense, but I managed NOT to tell her that HP was also playing just 20 miles away from us at our local theater and that the real draw was just getting away from our routine and spending a nice little hiatus with my kids in a different setting, but she probably already understood that. Moms always do.

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