Dr. Seuss to Dr. Kat

I flew from St. Louis to Albuquerque on July 28. Deb and Joy had dropped me off at the Southwest terminal at 6:30 a.m.

I was in group B11. Not bad. I got an aisle seat. We landed at 10:55 a.m.

In ABQ, I proceeded to the Hertz counter.

Agent: Next!

Me: Hi, I have a reservation.

Agent: Last name, please.

Me: McConnell.

Agent: I’ve got it right here, Mr. McConnell. You reserved a minivan. A Pacifica. [Pause; agent types at his terminal] Would you be interested in upgrading to a GMC Yukon? It has more room…

Me: I’m good. The minivan gets better gas mileage.

Agent: That’s true. But unfortunately we do not have any minivans on the lot at this time. I’m sure some will be returned later today.

Me: I guess I’ll take the Yukon.

Agent: Excellent. The upgrade will be at no charge, of course.

Me: Have you seen the Seinfeld episode where Jerry and Elaine are in line to rent a car?

Agent: Ha. Yes.

Me: And Jerry says, I made a reservation for a mid-size blah blah… and the agent says, I’m sorry, we have no mid-size available at the moment. And Jerry says, I don’t understand, I made a reservation. And the agents says, Yes, but we ran out of cars.

Agent: Yes, that’s funny.

Me: And Jerry says, But the reservation keeps the car here. That’s why you have the reservation. And the agent says, I know why we have reservations. Then Jerry says, I don’t think you do. If you did, I’d have a car. You know how to take the reservation, you just don’t know how to HOLD the reservation and that’s really the most important part of the reservation, the holding.

Agent: Do you want insurance on the Yukon, Mr. McConnell?

Me. No. I’m good.

Agent: Okay. Just sign here. [I sign.] Now, walk right out those doors, and then go to the right. The Yukon is in space 355.

—

I drove to Kat’s apartment in a brand-new Yukon, and we spent the weekend cleaning the apartment and selling furniture. Kat and I then filled up the Yukon and her car with the rest of her belongings.

On Monday morning, Kat defended her dissertation (and passed), and then Dr. Kat and I spent three days driving to Chicago. We ran into very little construction or delays. We stayed at a hotel in Oklahoma City, then the next night stayed at home in St. Louis.

In Chicago, we pulled up to a beautifully maintained four-story apartment building in the center of the charming Hermosa neighborhood. The building is at least 100 years old. Original doors, trim, and moldings. Gorgeous hardwood floors. Steam heat. (But no A/C.)

We unpacked the cars. Shopped at Walmart. Assembled some furniture. We went to a Mexican place for dinner, and in the morning went to an upscale diner called Rise and Shine that had the most amazing bread pudding French toast.

And then I headed back to St. Louis.

I pulled into the Hertz parking lot in St. Louis at 6:09 p.m. Thursday. Mileage: 1,767 miles. I typically drive 7,000 miles a year. So 1,700 miles is huge for me.

But the time went by in a flash. Each day, in fact, seems to go by faster than the last. It seems like just yesterday that I would lie down and read Lemony Snicket books to Kat or Horton Hears a Who to Emily. But it wasn’t yesterday. It was twenty years ago. It seems like yesterday that I held a four-year-old in my arms and got huge hugs and three dozen kisses. Well, actually, that was yesterday.

I read recently that 75 percent of the time we spend with our kids is before they turn twelve. Ninety percent of our time together is before age eighteen. Those are scary, depressing numbers. But someone calculated those numbers so that we can change them.