It's spring break. It's the first day of spring break, nine sweet, holy days in which I'm sure I'm meant to contemplate the fact that Jesus rose from the Dead, but instead I get to do whatever the hell I want. Which involves my parents coming to stay for a week.
I"m not anxious.
No, not at all.
First off, they've never visited for more than two days before. Second, they've never visited on their own. Third, they've never visited because I guilted the hell out of them, singing the refrain of "You Go See My Siblings All The Time" and "Plus You Screwed Us On Christmas", with the added encore of "And That Birthday Gift? Who's Sorry Now!" in three part harmony. It was like Row Row Row Your Boat sung in a round, only with more guilt. In my defense, I never thought they'd seek retribution with seven straight days.
So They're Coooooooming!
We're going to Ashland to see the Oregon Shakespeare Festiveal, which isn't so much Shakespeare so much as it's Plays Which Include Shakespeare and not so much a Festival as Plays All Year Long (We Have Them Too, Y'Know). We actually have tickets to see a Stoppard play, which my little drama-girl heart is totally thudding for. But other than that? We'll play it by ear.
And hopefully we'll find lots of things to do, or my dad might end up reframing the walls in my basement while my mom buys lots of shoes.