Saturday SlobberLove

Sometimes on Saturday, we pack all of our worldly belongings into a backpack the size of Rhode Island and we make lists upon lists upon lists upon lists of what we need and what we don't need and we dream about sleeping under the stars and washing our tootsies in a cold, cold river and we pray we have enough sunscreen and we feel more anxiety than the usual person feels because we want everything to be perfect and then, after some coaxing which we hear as bossing around from our mate we get in the car.  And we drive.

See you on the flip side,
Tammy Toilet Paper