Yesterday we needed to go to town. "Town" can mean several different places, but yesterday it meant the town 100 miles away from our house, where we go to the doctor and dentist. The town has about 5,000 people and two grocery stores, so we can get most of what we need. I get excited going to town because there is so much more to see. Several cars parked along the sides of the street. People I don't know. Sewers and curbs.
Maybe I should get out more. It doesn't take much to get me excited. Actually, what I crave when I go to town is a visit to the thrift store to see what bargains I can find, fresh fruit from the grocery store, and maybe a swim or haircut. The last two don't happen too often, but I can dream.
Desert Boy made the best of the long journey. He didn't have much of a problem getting comfortable. Check out his thighs; he still has cute dimples separating his fat rolls. Don't they make you just want to squeeze him and say something like "gootchy gootchy goo?" Too bad fat rolls aren't considered cute when you get older!
On the way back, Desert Boy wasn't quite so happy. He didn't grumble too much, but he did make some funny expressions. Fortunately he had a tractor to play with and some books to read. But what held his attention the most was the moon--he's really into the moon and kept staring at it. If he starts howling at it I will get worried. We got home late, happy but tired. Even though it's fun to go to town, it's always nice to get back home.