In the middle of last week, my mom’s friends came to stay with us for 2 days. Well, technically, they just borrowed my basement bedrooms like hotel rooms. They were on a road trip to see some of the most amazing landscapes in the US and frankly, I was a little jealous of them.

They live in California and last Wednesday was the first day of their road trip. They drove from California all the way to the Great Salt Lake to watch the sunset, which I’ve seen and still have treasured photos and treasured printed canvas that’s hung on my living room wall.

There were a total of 3 guests – my mom’s 2 friends and their one friend who, like me, was obsessed with the camera. In some ways, I felt like the friend was even more motivated than I will probably ever be because the next day, the 3 of them took off for the salt flats for the sunrise. They were out all day and didn’t come back until late at night.

A little back story…

I haven’t seen my mom’s 2 friends in about 20 years, not since when we moved to Texas when I was 14. I don’t know much about them just like I don’t really know any of my mom’s friend since I’m pretty much invisible around them. I’m only good for information and directions to places, I guess.

So anyway…

They were talking and suddenly, the friend brought up wanting to go to Argentina and wanting my mom and I to go with them. I almost did a double-take. What’s that, now? Argentina? What the heck is in Argentina?

They wanted me to be their guide because my mom bragged that I’m learning Spanish. Learning and knowing how to speak it is NOT the same thing. As fun as the trip sounds, I do not want to be go anywhere with a bunch of retirees who speak like someone’s having a shouting match all the time.