The Pentagon Mixing Bowl

Have you ever been using a mixer and added ingredients when the beaters were on too high of a speed? Do you remember what happens? Things go splattering all over the kitchen counter, the toaster, the side of the fridge and the mess is one big headache.

There is an area in downtown DC called the Pentagon Mixing Bowl. Oddly enough, it is located right around the Pentagon (silly thought) and it is a group of roads that just kind of.... well, they sort of merge and mix and twist around and so forth. Traffic is always snarled there. I've been through there several times with Jay driving and we most generally end up taking the wrong road. I suppose for the seasoned veteran, its quite obvious which road to take. But for us, its just not clear. We always find our way out and we always eventually end up where we want to go, but its only because Jay has a homing device implanted in his brain. He just never gets lost.

In about a month, I'm going to end up driving to the airport at 10 o'clock at night to pick up Jay. I'm driving there all by myself. In the dark. By myself. Alone.

So today, we took a test drive. I always like to do that. Its a good idea and it makes me feel a lot better when I have to do it by myself. We've done it several times before. We drive to a new doctor's office beforehand. We drive to where a banquet is going to be that I'll end up driving by myself and meeting Jay there. Its a great idea and a confidence builder for me.

Today we were driving along - its Saturday, so really not a huge amount of traffic for the area. The radio is going and we're just driving along. He tells me to take a right onto 395 North. I do.... and I say to him... "As long as we're not going on to the Pentagon Mixing Bowl and I'll be ok."

Silence.

I say again... "As long as we're not going on to the Pentagon Mixing Bowl I'll be ok."

I look at him. He mentions that we're having nice weather.

I knew it. I just knew it. He tells me I'm doing fine. But sure enough - here we are. Smack dab in the middle of it all. The good news is - he's with me and its not 5 o'clock on Friday.

I take a deep breath. I remember how that cake batter looks plastered up against the refridgerator. I keep driving.

Now, we're back home. It wasn't as horrid as I thought. We made it to the airport and back without incident. I guess the key is to keep the beaters on low while you're adding ingredients.