Months ago, I booked a vacation for Travis and me, without kids, without cares. Our original plan was to jet off to a European River Cruise the year that Tayden started college. I actually still want to take that trip. I’m not sure where we were going to pull together the funds for such a pricey vacation, but it was on the agenda. Then, Covid happened. And when I was planning this vacation, the Delta variant was surging across Europe and nobody was traveling across the Atlantic without 15 ways to prove you were healthy. So, I settled for Florida in October. Planning to let my boss in the cafeteria know, I happily booked the trip. Well, I’m not actually working in the cafeteria. I’m teaching math as a long term sub. And since I didn’t actually know that I would still be teaching in October, I kept the trip. 

On the night before we were leaving, I was at the school late, making sub plans. Travis made fun of me, the sub, making sub plans. Seriously, I had no idea what I was doing. Since we couldn’t lose a week of math (and who would want to?), I pulled together a weeks worth of video lessons to put out on canvas, along with homework instructions for the kids. I made copies of lessons and homework for my sub to handout and had them on my desk, a folder for each day, with instructions. After a very long day, I was trudging up my front path at 9pm, when I noticed a large Roscoe dump right by the front step, in the exact middle of the walking path, as if he knew we were leaving and was going to let us know how he felt about it. 

A quick lesson on Roscoe for you. Roscoe is a dainty chocolate lab that doesn’t like to go into the grass to do his business, because the grass can be wet or upsetting in some way or another. So, when you let him out, you must follow him to make sure he goes into the grass, or he will just do his business on the path, immediately turn around and beg to come back in, because he’s actually an indoor dog and shouldn’t have to go outside for anything… ever. So, while it’s not actually that surprising that he left a present on the front walk, it was surprising that it was perfectly centered right by the step, as if he wanted us to step right in it. He usually leaves his presents on the side of the path. Hmm. 

While I was contemplating this, I continued to approach the present in the relative darkness. Just as I got close, the apparent poo jumped right into my shin. Since nobody else was out there, I have no idea how loudly I screamed, but no earthquakes were registered that day, so I must have exhibited some control. Turns out, the poo was a poo-looking toad. And I must have startled it into jumping right into my shin. It was not a demon-possessed dog poo that came to life to jinx my trip, which was my only logical conclusion at first, so convinced was I that the toad was a poo. 

So, I was VERY awake to pack that night, after jolting every cell in my body awake with alarm. And I wasn’t sure what the poo-toad meant as a omen for the trip. Truth is, it was some sort of blessing surrounded in a joke from the fates or my guardian angel or whatever because we went to Siesta Key, Florida (thanks Sharon and Dan for the location idea) and had the most wonderful vacation ever. I didn’t know if I could do nothing but relax on a beach for a week, but it turns out, I can! Although I was surprised by my ability to go a week without an itinerary, it was nothing next to a poo-toad. 

Have a great week everyone! I highly recommend Siesta Key if you’re looking for a vacation destination.