The Prediction

We are, at last, both feeling much better. Today was the day I officially rejoined the human race. It's great to be back. While spending the last few days in my sick bed, many blog post subjects have meandered through my fevered brain. As my fever lessened, most subjects were lost to the ether. But, this one stuck. So, here goes.

Shortly after our arrival in Kansas City, we were visiting with Paul's parents. At one point, Paul's dad announced "I have a prediction!" Well, it's not like him to make such declarations, so we prompted him to share details of his prognostication.

"Next Spring, you two will come off the road and settle down," he said.

We just smiled and looked at each other. He's his dad, so Paul fielded this one.

"Well Dad," he replied. "That's gonna' be tough, especially since we have reservations for a month in Idaho next Summer."

For extra good measure, he added: "Besides, we're planning to look at bigger RVs while we're here."

After a round of uncomfortable chuckles passed, somebody changed the subject.

Of course, if we have anything to do with it, we'll be fulltiming well past next Spring. And, while the 13-year-olds in us are determined to prove Dad wrong, our 50-something selves know that he - like most of our family - has a not-so-hidden agenda. They would like to have us around. And, he's letting us know.

It's another version of the "When are you moving back to Kansas City?" conversation. After we moved to California nearly a decade ago, the conversations with our parents (and some of our family) maintained a familiar theme: When are you two coming back? Now that we're out of California and on the road, the question has evolved into a prediction, but the sentiment is the same.

The other thing we love about this prediction is the assumption behind it. Folks are assuming we're going to land in or around Kansas City. And, we might. But, part of our mission as we explore this beautiful country of ours is to find the next place we want to call home. Last night, we were reflecting on all this and began to laugh.

We can see it now. We call Dad next Spring and say, "You know, Dad. You're right. We're coming off the road." We'll give him just enough time to let that sink in. Then, we'll add "and we're making our new home at Flathead Lake, Montana."

All in good fun, of course. We're planning on being on the road for so many good miles that we're not even beginning to think about where we might land.

Meanwhile, we sure hope Dad is wrong on this one.