I've got no training in fun. "Clean your room." "Wash the dishes." "You're failing. Get that C up to an A." Dad once caught my brother playing marbles instead of doing his homework. After the whipping, he was grounded for a month.
My husband and I are planning a vacation; my nerves are wound to the breaking point. I've got to fill a box for the Salvation Army. Dammit. Didn't I tell you to get this done six months ago? I need to plant annuals in all those empty pots on my patio. NOW. Don't make me come back out here. Which reminds me to mulch the perennial beds. Why the hell are those bags of mulch still stacked in the yard? What've you been doing all summer? I've got no time to pack. I have to clean the oven. It better be done before you leave this house. Move your lazy butt.
The drive to the airport will make me sick to my stomach (I'll give you something to be sick about.), but once we're on the plane, the engine's steady hum will slow my racing heart. I'll nestle in to my seat, lean against my husband's shoulder, and soothe the skittish little girl who shadows me.