Pack Rat

In 10 days we leave for vacation. This time on that fateful morning, I will be running around the house like the proverbial headless chicken, shrieking and panicking as we start to load up the car, constantly doing an inventory of what we have and what we need and what we forgot. Where is the umbrella? Did we pack the toothbrushes? What about underpants? Deodorant? Beach towels? That one weird kitchen tool that nobody knows what it's for or even how to use it but you know the second we arrive at the rental house we're going to suddenly realize that it is a Vitally Important Utensil? Do we have enough lighters? I only have five in my purse, will that be enough?

Yes: I am aware that I am off-the-charts bananapants crazy and possibly certifiable.

I've been sort of stealthily packing my own stuff for a few weeks already -- stuff I know I want to put in the suitcase that I can manage to do without until then. Some new shirts that I would like to be seen in by my mother at least once before there is a food stain in the bosomal area. A pair of shorts that don't quite fit yet but that should be okay by the time we go. The new outfit I got for when my sister and I go to a concert in Atlantic City. I am not packing a whole lot, because there will be a washing machine, but of course in the next ten days I will reconsider and revise and revamp and reimagine my entire "resort collection."

Which is ridiculous, because I'll just end up packing the same stuff I already have set aside anyway. But then, I am not always the sharpest tool in the crayon box.

We have also already started packing up the non-perishables in the ice chest:

See if you can identify the one thing in there that will definitely NOT be coming out.