The Announcement

Can I safely assume you're all caught up on steps 1-5?  They only took me about 14 years to complete, counting back to my one and only blind date.  Great!  Here are the next few steps:

Step 6: One night over the clamor and chaos that is your nightly dinner table...
     Cora (age 4): Why did the cow cross the road?
     Roanin (age 6): Dunno. Why? (please read the mumble as created by a large wad of dinner stuck in his cheek while his line is delivered.)
     Cora: 'Cause he wanted to get married to the spoon. heeheehee. (briefly chokes on her own wad of dinner.)*

...Wait...what's that?  My husband's trying to speak to me.  (catch milk glass at half tilt.)  He seems to be trying to relate information in an adult conversation.  (scoop hunk of dinner off baby's bib and back into her bowl.  "Thank you for using your spoon, sweet girl.")   Sweden?  Did he just say Sweden?  Did he use a plural pronoun in reference to Sweden?  ("No more bread until you've finished your veggies.")  Is he really saying this in front of the kids?  Like it might actually be information to spread to every single soul our children come across?  ("No, I can't get you more.  Mommy hasn't started eating yet."  Move food laden fork from precipice of the table.)  "Eeek!"

Step 7: Flip out slightly.

Step 8: Ask approximately 50 pessimistic questions to determine if this does, in fact, have a chance of happening.  (You've been burned in the past.)

Step 9: Realize through further interrogation that, while this trip does seem to have a good chance of happening, there are absolutely no absolutes, details, or other footholds of any kind on which to base any further action on your part.

Step 10: Complete remainder of flip out.

*Actual joke told by my actual comedic genius of a daughter.  All rights reserved.  You may not use this material for personal gain (i.e. over ripe tomato gathering) without her express written permission.  I'll let you know as soon as she can write.