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This trip is cursed. That was the thought going through my mind for about the first three hours of our trip to DC this weekend to see my mom.
To begin, Blair and I were on different wavelengths about dinner. Since we didn't leave for DC until almost 6:30 Friday night after Blair got home from work, we decided we'd just grab Wendy's for dinner. Blair pulled into the parking lot and I said, "What are you doing?" His plan was to run inside and eat, mine was to gobble food in the car so as not to waste a moment's time. He won (he had the car keys) but being such a time-oriented individual, it started the trip with a bad taste in my mouth.
Then came the underwear.
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