Things You Don't Want to Hear....

There are some words and phrases you just don't want to hear.

• In relationships: "I've met someone." "It's not you, it's me." "We need to talk."
• From the physician: "We can't be sure...we'll order some more tests."
• From the insurance company: "That isn't covered."

I'm sure you can add your own set of least favorites to this brief list, some more serious than others. I can now add another category and phrase as well. You hate to get a call from the pet sitter saying, "I think the skunk is somewhere in the house."

Sally and I just returned from a whirlwind visit with her aunt in Reno. In a week we covered 2,000 miles, a National Park, a National Monument, 2 days with Sally's aunt, 2 days with Erin in Corvallis, and bookend visits with Megan in Kennewick as we came and went. As we began the last leg of the journey, we left a message with the pet sitter to inform him that we would be home a few hours earlier than expected. The pet sitter returned our call, saying that he had hoped to get the house aired out more before we returned, and that the odor was so strong he was concerned that the skunk might actually be in the house....

The next couple hours were filled with all sorts of mental images, speculations, and honest questions. Just who do you call to remove a skunk from your house?

We arrived back home prepared for the worst. In that sense, our pet sitter's warning accomplished its goal. Given that we feared we might be living out our own version of When Animals Strike!, we were relieved that there was no sign that a skunk had taken up residence with us. Cayenne, on the other hand, is quite odoriferous, as is anything and everything she has laid on, brushed against, or looked at.

This isn't the way we hoped the vacation would end. Sally also received word that her boss broke his collarbone over the weekend, and that she needed to cover the series of statewide meetings he had slated for this week. So we did laundry late last night, repacked her suitcase this morning, and hustled her off to central Washington.

For years we have preached that the worst times make the best stories. We will survive to tell the tales of the past week, and they will be humorous and entertaining. In the immortal words of countless kids on vacation, "Are we there yet?"