The driving there was fine. It was always the "there" that made me feel queasy. Driving through Wisconsin was always a beautiful sight because of the countryside and all the farm animals I would get to see, which I do not usually get in the city of Saint Paul. Even the stench of manure did not bother me as much as getting "there."
They were only a three hour drive away, my grandparents. But I never liked visiting them nor having them visit us. As a kid, the only times we would visit them were when my parents had another of their predictable fights. My mother would pack our bags and take us without telling my dad where we were going. Though I'm sure he always knew where we went.
I was tired of being dragged around and having to live with other family members. I even preferred living in my house where my parents constantly bickered. The walls were not thick enough to keep the noise out from my room but it was better than being around people who talked about my parents and .
"Take me back home with you mommy. I don't want to stay here. I'll miss you and daddy!" I'd cry and beg of her, but she'd shake her head no as tears climbed out from under her eyelids, down her cheeks and onto mine.
"I'll come back for you guys. Don't worry. Everything will be fine in the end." My mom would tell me while drying and wiping away the tears and running snot from my face with her sleeve.
"How long will it last? When can I go back home with you and daddy?"
"I don't know, but I promise I won't be long and I'll call you every day."
"You promise then."
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