Yesterday was a day from hell. A 14 hour ordeal moving my son into his apartment at Penn State Altoona. It included 8 hours of driving, rest stop food and the consequences thereof, battling the hoards of freaks at Wal-Mart, and the latest reason I despise banks.
I had Jimmy drive the entire trip so he could get used to the roads and the tedious boredom of driving on the PA Turnpike. Avalon followed with my youngest son in the car behind. It gave me plenty of time to impart my years of wisdom upon him. I’m sure he has already forgotten everything I said. And I had to listen to four hours of Phish.
All went smoothly and it was time to make a rest stop at the 2 hour mark just before Blue Mountain. The plan was to grab a quick bite to eat and complete the journey for a 1:00 pm arrival. The selection was limited. Either a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut or something from Roy Rogers. I grabbed a box of pizza and they got Roy Rogers.
Within 30 minutes of departure there was a rumble in my tummy. The rumble became shooting pains. I guess you can screw up a pizza. For the last 90 minutes of the trip I was in various stages of discomfort. But, I gutted it out. When we arrived and got the key, I grabbed the case of toilet paper we brought and ran for the bathroom. And Jimmy’s new apartment was christened.
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