I'm an overpacker. A bad overpacker. A "I need four pairs of pants for a weekend trip to my in-laws where I'll just wear the same khakis 3 days running" overpacker. Sweetiebear is just as naughty. The man has brought five pairs of shoes for a two-night trip to his in-laws.
And now we are packing for Ireland. We're not backpacking per se. We'll be in Dublin, and then have a car for frolicking around the southwestern coast. We each bought a snazzy new grownup suitcase (50% off at Macy's). But neither do we want to haul shit around. I really hate hauling shit around. The idea of needing a bulky stroller with a ginormous diaper bag freaks me out. I don't even like carrying a purse. Although I love purse shopping. Here's my dream bag of the moment. In green please. I'll hug these purses at Nordstrom in a moment of weakness. Sweetiebear, ever the perfect husband, has given me permission to get myself a nice purse.
"Just save the money and get whatever you want!"
"Baby, these cost more than our utility bill. For two months."
So I have a plan. A packing plan. And a list.
God Bless Rick Steves. You can check out his list here. Browse the rest of his lovely site while visiting. Daydream about Europe.
Kisses
Jenny
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