day 130: 31 1/2 years immature

West Virginia, you slightly redeemed yourself. You gave us a pale yet present rainbow over your dreaded mountains on our way out of your state lines this morning. I'll take that.

But what I can't quite take, or understand, really, is me. Am I as immature sometimes as I think I am? With about 1 1/2 hours till our tires hit our driveway, ASC called. And I spoke to him for about 3 minutes until the call cut out. And then I had to fill up the vehicle with gas. Which meant that when he called back, the young'uns had the phone. Which meant I was a good mom and let my kids talk to their dad, while I selfishly wanted to pull that thing out of their hands and talk to him on my own. But I didn't. They talked and talked. Mile after mile. And by the time my phone made its way from the back seat to the driver's seat, it was more than past his time to hit the rack. Which meant I got a "good-bye" and an "I love you" and not much more. Which meant I spent the next few miles pouting like a 3-year old, which I'm awfully good at for being 31 1/2.

I don't understand myself sometimes.