The problem with the country (not the U.S., but rather non-city portions of it) is that it is so far from the city.  Amissville, Virginia, is about as far as you can get from D.C. and still be in America.  

Don’t hold me to geographic technicalities, here.  Anywhere that requires a 2-hour drive with a screaming toddler in the backseat is at the end of the earth, as far as I am concerned.  Especially when your Mapquest directions are faulty and you get lost.  Twice.  And the 2-hour drive turns into a shipwreck onto a deserted island and you are trapped with a bunch of people who create radios from coconuts yet somehow can’t figure out how to build a boat.  Oh, wait…that’s Gilligan’s Island.

Today was Dom’s Potawatomi naming ceremony.  We were an hour late.  Leaving home at 7:30 a.m. never works out very well for us, but we would have been on time, had Mapquest employees bothered testing the routes they suggest.  A road sign where we needed to make a right turn would have been nice, too.

We drove right through Amissville.  That’s not hard to do, but I was surprised, once we turned around, that we had driven 15 miles past it.  By the time we got to the right road, I was very tempted to go home.  Walking in on a sacred ceremony an hour late is pretty rude.

My husband talked me into going in, anyway.  He said, “We can’t eat all of this potluck food, anyway!”  I was wondering why not…I was pretty down about missing the naming ceremony and food usually helps lift my spirits.

We walked in, I apologized profusely for being so late, and the hostess told me that the Chairman and Vice-Chairwoman, who would be doing the naming, were also lost. 

To paraphrase Dom, “Amissville, where are you?”