Our family is gearing up for a road trip, our longest ever.

It’s my 10-year College reunion. (Now I shall pause so that you can do math and figure out my age, but let me tell you my school does “cluster” reunions, so really it is my 11 year reunion because this year they are including classes 1999, 2000, and 2001.) It’s quite hard to believe that I graduated from college a third of my life ago. (More pausing. More math.)

I’m 33, ok?

It’s not just my reunion though, because my husband and I went to school together. We didn’t date while there, but we sort of “ran in the same crowd,” if you will. We were friends. We did shows together. Once we played brother and sister . . .

Oh, and during our commencement weekend, on one of the last nights before we graduated, he came up to me at this little dance/disco thing we had, clearly, ahem, inebriated as all get out, grabbed me, kissed me, and then exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted to do that!” and walked away.

We got married four years later.

And now we are getting ready to take our brood back to where it all started.

And I’m excited. A little nervous, but not nearly as much as I would have thought (this kind of thing is exactly the type that would normally fill me with potential anxiety). I mean, of course I’m having various dreams about my old play director telling me I would need to have a new costume made for the show because I’ve gained so much weight - seriously, brain, can you at least try to be subtle? I don’t think we can even include that in the “SUBconscious” category.

But really I’m just looking forward to being there. I want to sit with our children on the lawn where I used to spend gorgeous afternoons cutting classes after classes. I want to introduce my boys to old friends, people who have never even known me as a mom. It’s hard to remember that there are some people who don’t know me as a mother, who have never met my kids, but who were a huge part of my life all the same.

And this place - it was a huge, HUGE part of my life.

So we’re going, driving for hours, and sleeping all together, all four of us, in a dorm room. I can’t remember if this is one of the dorms that has the notorious co-ed bathrooms and open showers. Did I mention that our school was a bit hippied out? It was.

Cah-Runchy.

*********Edited to add: My husband has just informed me via email that he has absolutely no recollection of kissing me that night…how romantic.