~Frustration~

When I was between 7-8 years old, we lived in a single wide trailer next to a feed lot.  My dad took care of the cows, and that is how we paid the rent.  It was a teeny tiny trailer house, so little that my 7-8 year old arms could touch both sides of my bedroom wall (I thought that was cool).

We were "eating-the-Government-Cheese" poor, but I wasn't aware of it because we had a red velvet couch (A bed spread tossed over a broken down couch that had coffee cans for legs) and my mom made strawberry pancakes so in my mind we were OBVIOUSLY rich.

One day, my mom told us to get cleaned up.  She was getting little Missy and baby Mandy ready and Dave and I were on our own.  I asked where we were going and she replied, "Disneyland."

I was stoked!  There wasn't even the tiniest recognition of the fact that my mom was being sarcastic.  I put on my favorite dress (it was a hand-me-down from Kimmy and it had Holly Hobby on the front of it).  Dave brushed his hair and put on nice clothes, we helped mom pack up the babies and we jumped in the car that drove straight to...

Albertsons.

My mom parked the car and left all of us in the car while she went shopping.  It was summer and it was hot and Missy and Mandy were both under the age of 3 and not loving being trapped in a car on a summer day.

Dave and I were sweating and playing with babies and talking about what ride we would go on first.  My thought was that mom was buying sandwich stuff for the trip because Disneyland would require being in the car for at least an hour.

It was on the way back home that I realized it was just a big joke and Disneyland wasn't really going to happen and I was a complete dumbass to cry over it because OBVIOUSLY it was never going to happen.

So!

When I say that our latest sexual stage of life makes me feel like a 7-8 year old kid who thought she was going to Disneyland, but she was really just going to babysit her sisters in the parking lot of an Albertsons on a hot summer day--I really know what I am talking about.