HOW LOSE YOUR SANITY IN SIX DAYS OR LESS

There are worse ways to spend a week than to be stuck in the small farming community your mother-in-law lives in, with her, your husband, your niece-in-law, her seven-year-old son, and 'husband.'

But it just isn't coming at the moment.

I learned more about NASCAR than I ever wanted to know... which wasn't anything to begin with. I still don't understand how people can spends hours watching cars doing laps - when you watch athletics run, you can at least admire their legs, not their tobacco and auto parts logos.

I ate at two, TWO, of the most outstanding restaurants in my husband's hometown on the main street.


And oh my, yes, there are only two restaurants there, how did you ever guess?

We did have lunch with a high-school buddy of my husband's who is just a sweetie - the only person he's really kept in touch with since high school, to my great relief.

I did get to know Kitty, a Siamese-Persian-almond-eyed feline-cross of some sort, extremely well. Well enough that my own cat hasn't forgiven me yet even after washing every single bit of clothing that might have come in contact with him.

My heart-strings were tugged like a chinese jump-rope over a huge, loopy lab/pit mix that was tethered in the back yard until a home could be found for him (did you know it costs $175 to ship a pet in cargo one-way?).

(And how old do you have to be to remember chinese jump-rope? Do kids play that anymore?)

So I've come home six pounds heavier, my complexion amazingly clear (maybe humidity is good for something), and with more dirty laundry than I care to admit.

But at least I am HOME.

THE SUPER BOWL AT AGE 6

Watching a group of five and six year-old boys play tag-football is way beyond amusing.

They all LOVE hiking the ball at the beginning.

And the whatever the-stomping-on-the-ground-in-place-with-your-feet-way-apart is called.

Shouting out their team name together is fun.

But then some things are just a wee bit difficult for them.

Such as actually catching a football that comes up in your face unexpectedly.

Watching where the football actually goes.

Listening to what your coach is screaming at you to do.

And, what seems to be scariest of all, is someone who suddenly is running after you with the obvious intent of HITTING you and knocking you TO THE GROUND.

At times like these, running wildly away from everyone else on the field seems perfectly reasonable and logical.