I am turning into my mother.
Collecting the extra napkins,
Sticking them in my purse,
To place in the car,
Just in case.
I have gathered a few forks and spoons
For the times we aren’t given one at the drive thru.
I check and recheck the drive times
To make sure we are not too early,
Or too late for check-in. 
Pick up the pens and pads from the hotel night stand,
Stow them away for itenerary notes.
Pack the slivered soaps into a ziploc,
Can’t let those go to waste…
Being a grown up 
Is cramping my style.