I hate packing. I think I spend so much time selecting my outfits before a trip because its easier for me to think, "But what if I step in something wet, and I need an extra pair of dry socks?" than, "But what if the plane goes down and we all die a terrible painful death?"
But my favorite part of getting ready to leave is eating all the food in the house. By the last day we've got nothing but milk, celery, a chunk of cheese, and apple juice. I feel like the Macgyver of dinners, if Macgyver just threw stuff out and bought pizza. We also have very similar hair.
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