Only Me

I mean, this is so Muffy.  This is quintessential Muffy.

I was texting with my BFF, chiding her for her lame Amazon.com wishlist, which makes gift giving harder for me and today is Black Friday, darn it, and I was set to cash in on some savings and after all, it’s All About Meeeee.

One thing led to another, and we decided that I was going to buy a plane ticket and fly out to spend a weekend with her.  She usually comes here, so it’s high time I was the one boarding the plane.

She even offered to pay for half the ticket.  She said we could consider it our gift to each other for Christmas.

So I started checking all the travel web sites, comparing flights from different airports and with different carriers.  This is in the middle of also trying to get each of my kids to pick gifts for the other kids, which meant interviewing them one at a time and hiding the notes I’d written when talking to their siblings.  My head was in quite a whirl, especially as in the middle of trying to pick gifts for others, they would inevitably remember something that they themselves wanted and insist we take a break to look it up.

By the end of the afternoon I had a good chunk of gifts purchased and had a spreadsheet on which to track the ins and outs of who is giving what to whom.

Without this list, I tend to overbuy for one child and forget to buy much more than socks for another one.  The overloaded and underbought status rotates randomly through the ranks of the kids from year to year.  The spreadsheet is my only defense against it.

So I was quite pleased with myself for all of that, and had spent some time negotiating times and dates with my husband as to when I could leave on my trip.  I thought Easter would be a good time, since I get time off from all of my classes, but he really didn’t like me missing Easter with the family.  I countered that it was just a church service and meal at his Mom’s house, not an actual family holiday or one in which I was vital, “like Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays or Mother’s Day.”  Those were my exact words.

I did some fare checking and calendar checking and ascertained that I could actually do the trip the second week of May instead of at Easter, since my Monday classes would be finished by then. I had to leave right after my Thursday classes and travel back on Monday so that I would be ready to teach on Tuesday.  If I did it the next week, I would miss one daughter’s birthday, and if I did it the week after that it would be too close to the other daughter’s high school graduation.

I double-checked the dates with everyone, talked turkey about the money with the BFF, researched all the hidden fees and ascertained whether or not the ticket was cancelable, having found out the hard way this year that you don’t want to book nonrefundable tickets or hotel rooms.

Note to the wise – if you book through Expedia, you have to UPGRADE and pay another $15 to $25 to have the option to pay an additional cancellation fee should you need to cancel or change your flight.  In some cases, the “Economy” fare doesn’t even allow you to take on a carry-on.

Needless to say, I decided to go through the airline’s website instead of using Expedia.  It was just WAY more straight forward.

To my delight, I found a credit card offer on the airline’s site that offered a $200 credit when you book a flight with it, which meant my entire fare would cost $24.

At that price, I couldn’t not book it, so after checking all around one last time about the dates, I took the plunge and booked the ticket. Hubby was happy that I would be home for Easter and BFF was happy that I would finally get to see her new apartment.

And then I went to put it on the calendar.

Yep.  That weekend is Mother’s Day.

(Muffy takes a bow).

Thank you, thank you. I don’t even have to try.  It’s a gift – I can’t explain it.

Thankfully, the Hubby is so relieved that it’s not Easter, he’s willing to reschedule Mother’s Day festivities to another day. 

The kids said, and I quote, “Go Mom, that’s awesome!” and, “It’s your day – if you want to be in another state, you get to do that!” and, “Yay, now we don’t have to cook for you.” 

My Mother won’t care which day I go over to bring her a card – we may just celebrate the British Mothering Sunday instead. 

And I’m pretty sure my Mother-In-Law has thought I’m slightly unhinged since the day I went up in a small plane piloted by my brother when I was 6 weeks pregnant with her first grandchild, so she’ll just shake her head in mystification at people who do crazy things like Traveling, Flying, Swimming, and Leaving The State For Reasons Other Than Going To Vegas.

 

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