1,2,3,4....I Declare a Thumb War...

Caroline...war monger...

On June 23 our family set off on an adventure! Well...at first it sounded like an "adventure" because we were flying "Space Available" from an air force base in Germany to "WHO KNOWS WHERE" air force base in the USA. Our plan was to land on American soil and run like the dickens around Maryland and Pennsylvania looking for a house to buy, plan and execute John's promotion with various family members from Virginia, Kentucky and Indiana, satisfy our cravings for "Good Ole American shopping", eat at Cracker Barrel (roll your eyes...stomp your feet...I can't see you...) and give appropriate attention to everyone. We are really messed up...it's okay...I have officially diagnosed us and we are receiving appropriate treatment....we eat biscuits and gravy to keep us grounded.

And so...with 4 huge suitcases, 6 over-stuffed backpacks, 6 pillows and blankets, little wallets poked full of American money, high expectation and a dose of anxiety - we headed out for America. Land of the free - Home of the Brave - Where the buffaloes roam and the stores runneth over. Amen.

In Washington, D.C....in front of the sacred Capital Building.

Jack leanning to one side and Catherine wiping her face says it all. It was HOT HOT HOT...

Flights on Space-Available are like play-doh....it looks fun....but once it's smooshed into your rug...well...you get the picture...

The children pinning John's new rank on.

After the promotion...the "grab a snapshot of Nana" picture!

Imagine a huge, messy, sticky, sweet load of cotton candy. THAT was our trip. It had the original appeal of "LOOK AT THE BEAUTIFUL FLUFF OF COTTON CANDY, MOMMY!!!"....and once you started pulling off pieces...it was all over our face and our hands and it tuned our tongue blue and you discovered you forgot the baby wipes...in other words...it wasn't what we had originally expected. We were stressed...and we needed a good bath and soft jammies, warm milk and our favorite blankie. I feel like a baby who had been passed around one too many times at a church social.

And then...an unexpected joy...

My sister, Mary, along with her hubby and 2 super awesome kids traveled over the river and through the woods to the Washington, D.C. area to spend about 24 short hours with us. 8 hours up there...24 hours in D.C. and 8 hours home. Only sisters do THAT for you.

Mary, Me and Elizabeth...the best sisters and friends in the world...

Mary, Jerry, Clay and Caroline

For our "ONE DAY" together we decided to head into the big city and cram as much as possible in before the kids melted down and our husbands divorced us.There is no way to usually "do" D.C. in one day...but we decided to try. We started off by driving to the Pentagon metro station ad from there riding over to the Smithsonian stop...we are cheap and easily thrilled...no comment on that. We walked ourselves right into the Air and Space museum...took in the IMAX theater and Planetarium...ate lunch in a "way-too-busy" food court and headed back out into the sun to find the Declaration of Independence. My sister pointed out that it was in the archives...I thought it was in the Museum in American History (because dang nab it...I'm older and smarter and I went on a field trip there in the 8th grade which by default makes me an expert...)...and in the end we had no idea where the document was being housed. We're good like that.So, because I am so incredibly smart - we passed up the Archive building and walked our chubby little selves over to the Museum of American History...where we discovered that Mary was right. Okay? I said it. Mary was right...as usual. I'm a big fat liar know-it-all. The kids were hot, tired and melting down....the hubbies were wondering why we weren't just chillin' by the pool....Mary and I were on a mission and settled on seeing "THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER". I'm not being clever...this is THE SSB....The very flag that Francis Scott Key saw after a grueling night...the very flag that by it's very existence made his heart well up...made his heart feel hope and pride and inspired him to write down what is now our National Anthem. You walk through a little hallway exhibit on your way to see the flag...and you see pictures of the battle and of flag makers and Francis Scott Key....and you hear the National Anthem being played and my sweet Jack slapped his sticky little hand over his heart and hummed the song and sang some words here and there all of the way through the exhibit. You would have liked his version...he even threw in some cannon blasts at the end for effect. Jack was very pleased with witnessing this part of history. I cried...I'm weird...I'll eat biscuits and gravy...I'll be fine.

And then it happened. Over by the gift shop my sister spotted a woman, an older woman, signing books. The line was very long and there was entire rack of these children's books on the shelf. I assume her goal was to sign them all. And - Mary had a light bulb moment! "THAT'S HELEN THOMAS!.....THE WHITE HOUSE REPORTER!!!" And it was if we were all on a stage a cued to turn and gasp...so we did. In a forced whisper I said, "Oh, my gosh..."....Mary said..."I'm going to buy books...you get in line!" I obeyed...afterall...she was right about the Declaration of Independence...who was I to question her now? Then we stood in line for 2 hours - like stool pigeons - waiting for "THE HELEN THOMAS" to sign our books.

Helen makes Presidents shake in their boots. She is deadly honest and old. However, just a week prior to her signing these books her charm and her birthday (I think it was her 244th birthday or something like that...) President Obama sang "Happy Birthday" to

her and gave her a cake during a press conference. I'm sure she wasn't swayed in the least not to throw a million tough questions at him...but he tried.

We approached "THE HELEN" with our books...our dirty, fussy kids and she thoughtfully signed them. And then she leaned in and took Caroline's hand. Sweet Caroline...4 1/2 years old, soft and round and hearing impaired - but not personality impaired an Helen rubbed that sweet pink hand and looked deeply into her little brown eyes. When Helen tried to release Caroline's hand...Caroline wouldn't let go....and then it happened in slow motion...

Helen was looking at Caroline...and Caroline was looking back at her and then Mary, Helen's two friends, my children and I looked down at the two hands...and noticed something. Carolin's little pudgy thumb was going back and forth...back and forth over Helen's 87 year old hand...as fast as she could but very deliberately. Helen's friend said..."HELEN! I believe she is declaring a THUMB WAR on you!" Mary and I nervously laughed and went to pull Caroline away from the battlefield, Helen's friends laughed...but mainly...HELEN LAUGHED! She laughed and clapped her hands together and slid her "rollie-chair" back and we all shared a little moment. A moment where "WHO HELEN WAS" didn't matter, the fact that she is the gutsiest woman in reporting...didn't matter, that Caroline saw an opening for a bit of entertainment and she took it. Just an old lady and a little girl...engaged in a thumb war...in the middle of the Smithsonian...steps away from the Star Spangled Banner, Clara Barton's ambulance and Elvis's guitar..Caroline and Helen started the best kind of war there is. One that begins with handshake and ends with laughter.

I suppose it goes right beside what Helen wrote in my book...",,,may your children grow up in a more peaceful world..." Helen, I completely agree. A world where people laugh at the little things and a world where the only wars that are declared are thumb wars.