Down By The River

We were not the only ones who visited Diana’s parents over our vacation. Every single person with the Jacklich name decided to drop by Lisle at the same time. I think there was even a guy named “Jack Lick” there by mistake. But he didn’t turn down any beers.

It was glorious and hilarious and…crowded. Once all the kids emptied the nest, the Jacklich seniors downgraded to a tiny two bedroom house. After losing count of the attendees for the third time, I asked Diana where we’d be sleeping.

An RV loaned from a friend.

I lit up like a firecracker. I love RVs. Or rather the idea of RVs. The last time I slept in one was 20 or so years ago. I imagined one of those silver metal jobs with the cots that hang down from the ceiling and probably a hot tub.

Diana and her dad drove off to fetch that had become in my mind, Metallica’s touring bus.

She called me a while later.

“Um. About the RV. You and Eli are sleeping in it. Luca and I will be sleeping in the house.”

She could only mean the RV was so awesome that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Or that Elijah and I were so good on the plane ride to Illinois that we deserved to have the hot tub all to ourselves.

Then they arrived.

Let me preface this by thanking the friends who let us stay in their vehicle. It was incredibly generous and kind of you and I am grateful. Seriously.

But it was a van. Not an RV. A van. Yes, it was a van that had a sink and a bed in the back. But it was a van. With the words “Pleasure Way” printed on the side. Pleasure. Way. Like, “If you want that special kind of 1970’s pleasure that can only occur in the back of a van, this way sir!”

Later that evening, Diana found us some blankets and pillows. I inquired about whether Di’s folks had rubber sheets. Nope. There was nothing between me and all the pleasure ground into the mattress.

Elijah loved it. I did not sleep well.