I am back from taking Rob back to college for his summer job, which gave me the worst case of Sunday Afternoon Syndrome ever: not only was it Sunday afternoon, but it was Sunday afternoon and my very-looked-forward-to overnight trip was over. Plus I was tired and cranky from driving the last hour-and-a-half in some inexplicable traffic with the sun at a glaring angle.
Plus I may have hit a squirrel. I’d slowed down to avoid hitting it, even though I know you’re not supposed to do that but there was no one close behind me, and then the little idiot doubled back and ran right under my car. There was a little bonking sound of something hitting the underside of the car; the sound was soft enough for hope but not for denial. When I looked in the rearview mirror, I didn’t see the squirrel in the road or anywhere else. If you know of any possibility that the squirrel stuck to the underside of my car, I don’t want to hear about it.
Well, but aside from those things, it was a great trip. I’d had various frets, such as that his housing wouldn’t actually be available when we arrived, or that it would turn out he was supposed to have submitted a form and now it was too late, but those frets all came to naught. I helped carry in his stuff and then I was free. I did a little shopping, checked into my motel, and then went back out to have dinner. While I was eating, Rob texted me that he’d forgotten to bring his sheets. So I went back and picked him up and we went to Target and bought some. And oh yeah he needed shampoo. And body wash. And floss. And he was low on toothpaste.
I wondered if perhaps he is using mind-altering substances these days, because I asked him about all these things before we left home, TWICE. First, a few days before we left, as I was heading out to Target, I asked if he needed anything like that, and he said he didn’t; second, on the morning we left, I had the storage cabinet open, and I said “Oh, how are you on shampoo and deodorant and stuff?,” and he said he was all set. I remember reading an article long ago about how bad it is for people psychologically to screw around with their sleep schedules, so let’s hope that’s all it is.
I dropped him back off at school, and went to my motel room and changed into pajamas and re-watched Bridesmaids. It is really, really not my type of movie (I don’t like gross-out humor, horrifying-awkward-situation humor, or raunch), but I liked it better the second time through when I knew what to expect, and it was the right kind of movie for half-watching while I played on my phone and ate snacks. I stayed up late and it was fun.
The motel I was staying at was not the kind with breakfast. I’d been thinking I’d get a Sausage McMuffin and a coffee at the drive-through on my way out of town, but then impulsively stopped at IHOP instead. Here were my anxieties, before stopping:
1. I haven’t been there in a couple of decades and I don’t really remember what it’s like
2. What if on Sunday mornings it’s really crowded?
3. Maybe they’ll resent me taking up a whole table
4. Maybe it’ll be expensive and disappointing and I’ll wish I’d spent $2 at McDonald’s instead
But it was so perfect. It was not AT ALL crowded, in fact if anything it was worryingly empty, just me and three families with kids in a huge empty restaurant. It was totally fine for me to take up a whole table. And I was not at all disappointed:

(I would have tipped the camera a little higher so you could see the coffee pot, but I didn’t want the family at the next table to think I was taking pictures of them)
I was in a daring mood, so I ordered the stuffed French toast even though it said it was made with cinnamon-raisin bread and I don’t like warm raisins; but there was not one single perceptible raisin in it, and the cinnamon flavor was unexpectedly good with the strawberries and whipped cream. I got the sourdough toast and it was so good; the last time I had breakfast out I ordered wheat toast and it was all dried and crunchy, but this was chewy and soft. The waitress asked if I wanted two sausage or two bacon, then added “…or one of each?,” as if she knew my secret heart. I got my own entire pot of coffee and she brought a little bowl of assorted creamers so I could try multiple flavors. I just kept eating a bite of each thing in turn like Albert in Bread and Jam for Frances, and kept adding more hot coffee to my mug, and it was so so wonderful and I want to eat there every morning.
The only way it could have been better is if there had been a jelly caddy on the table, instead of the toast being delivered with one strawberry and one grape. I LOVE a good jelly caddy. I like trying the flavors I wouldn’t usually choose, like apple jelly or orange marmalade. I just spent some time researching this topic (I wanted to make sure “caddy” was the right word; it turns out it can be called a caddy or a rack), and did you know you can buy these little jam packets and caddies for your very own house? I didn’t see any variety packs that included all the different flavors, but there are 200-packet packs of strawberry/grape/marmalade, strawberry/grape/apple, strawberry/grape/mixed, or just peach, or just blackberry—and there may be others but that was just about the point where sanity returned. Plus I got discouraged because the jam rack I wanted was only in packs of twelve, which is twelve more jam racks than my house can use. The Smuckers site has the other kind of jam caddy I like, and they’re only $3.49 each, but that’s when I started thinking was I actually going to place any such order and realized the answer was no I was not. (But if your answer is yes, Smucker’s also has a cherry/blackberry/strawberry assortment I didn’t find on Amazon.)