Brent:  "I'm so glad you don't carry a little dog around all of the time. I think I'd have to slap you if you did."

A moment later... "That's probably offensive to some people..."

homesick

This afternoon after writing in our freshly purchased Mother's Day cards, I went online to search for my parents' address.  Don't ask me why I cannot EVER remember it.  I'm thinking it's likely because their address is ALL numbers.  Numbers are gibberish to my brain.  I have no retention for them.  Names I can do.  Numbers, not so much.  And yes, I DID live there (at my parents' home, during Brent's deployment) for a year.  But I cannot remember ANY of my Utah (number) addresses.  I CAN however, remember all of my normal addresses; even the address to house I moved from when I was 5 years old.  910 Lee Avenue.  See?  So just in case I might be recalling the wrong numbers, I always look it up online.

How did I survive before the internet?  Oh yes, I had something called an "address book,"  and a paper taped inside a kitchen cupboard with everyone's phone number on it.

For some reason, the "white pages" no longer list my Dad's address.  I used to be able to input a name and zip code and up it would pop.  Not this time.  I looked up my Grandmother's name and could only find an old Springville listing.  She lives with my parents now,  and I have two cards to mail to her, which is why I NEED to find the address.

In a last attempt to find the address online, I put it (what I thought it was, anyway - I was right!) into my handy chrome toolbar, and google rewarded me with the "street view" of their house.  Google maps told me that the picture was taken in August of 2012, and guess whose car was parked right in front?  Mine: complete with the Mitt 2012 sticker on the back side.  The kids were excited to see it again (we sold our beloved Yukon last fall, as it was at an advanced age).  I was excited to see it again.

And then I realized.  When that picture was taken I was inside with my parents. Two of my VERY favorite people who are now on the other side of the world.  I miss them.  Terribly.  What on earth will I do when my children are on missions?  Can.  Not.  Imagine.

10 months down, 13 to go!