In case you haven't heard, the Hillbilly family just returned from four days in Oklahoma. It wasn't as hot as Missi-freakin-ssippi in July that year we took the #1 son to basketball camp. But it was close.
We were supposed to pick up The Pony at his dorm at 3:00. We even read the website again, and sent him a text to make sure that it was 3:00. Not 3:30. You don't want your kid standing around in 99-degree heat for a half hour while you play longer at the Indian casino. Yes, The Pony verified, it was 3:00.
We left that casino with plenty of time, in case we ran into traffic. It was only a 15-minute drive. And we made sure to leave at 2:00. We had planned to eat at the food court, but Farmer H was antsy to be at the campus and find a place to park. Which could be difficult with 400 future students being released from that freshman orientation camp.
We had driven 10 minutes, and were already back in Norman proper when we got the text from The Pony. "Bumped back to 3:15 or so now. Then I'll need to repack." Okay. So now Farmer H and I had over an hour to kill in 99-degree heat. So he decided that we should go ahead and have lunch. We didn't want anything major. So Farmer H decided on Sonic. Perhaps you've heard of Sonic. Where you sit in your car to eat. In 99-degree heat. At least my burger was delicious, even if they did seem to have infused my Diet Cherry Coke with VANILLA! I hate vanilla. So I ate the cherry, and only drank half of it. Pity, really. It's been a long time since I had a Sonic Diet Cherry Coke. At least it was only a medium that was ruined. Not a 44 oz.
On to the campus. Just so happened that a car was backing out of a PRIME parking spot. It was only 4 spaces down from the fire plug where we dropped off The Pony. I sent him a text with the location to find us. "Not out of closing yet." This was at 3:20.
We sat. And we sat. In the hot car. Mercifully, the day was overcast. Yet I lay frying. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's mother's side of the family could never take the heat. My mom was a redhead, you know. Fair and freckled of skin. The heat gave her a flushed face. Me too. And my sister the ex-mayor's wife. Once my face gets hot, it stays lit up like a Christmas tree. I told Farmer H, "I might as well be a drinker, because my face makes me look like one."
At 3:24, another communication from The Pony. "Ceremony just ending. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe?" I sent one back. "We won't leave." Which may have been a mistake.
At 3:33, "Packing."
We watched other parents wander around, standing under a tree, waiting to nab their kids and take them to where the car was parked. A female campus policeman came by, with her tablet out, eyeing our license plate. She told a woman that she was okay for now, until pickup. Farmer H asked if we needed to move. "No. I saw the out of state plates. I figured you were a visitor. Usually if we don't get a name when we run the plates, we know it's a visitor, and we don't ticket them."
At 3:50, The Pony returned. So now it had been almost 2 hours since Mrs. Hillbilly Mom last went to the bathroom at the casino, in preparation for her 10-hour drive home.
Let the record show that soda-drinking Farmer H stopped at a convenience store for the bathroom, and to buy more soda for the start of the trip. Mrs. HM's face remained lit up like a lush for the entire ride home.
Thank the Gummi Mary, at least A-Cad has a great air-conditioning system.