Organizing what would have been a simple one-hour trip for me and grandpa took forever with the kids. Mother (after I told we'd be teaching them meditation) insisted on packing half the house for us. Other than the lamps, tea, and sandwiches we usually carried, she insisted on packing blankets, a first-aid kit, dry socks, and a spare change of clothes for all three of them.
"We're not going camping," I pointed out, trying to fit everything in one backpack. "They'll be fine. We're coming back for dinner, anyway."
She was having none of it. After I tried, for the third time, to take out everything and pack it all in, she brought another backpack.
"Sam can carry it," she said. "You're still too weak."
Which was unfair. Thanks to the exercise and the food, I was back to ordinary thin now,
