All in California
Compared to keeping my two girls occupied in mass for an hour, driving in the car is easy--even for 18 hours. The girls are troopers, especially Alyssa. There were moments of irritability, and there's now a car full of goldfish, peanut butter, and jelly, but Friday was a marathon day of travel, twelve hours on the road. Here's a run down of some other points of interest from the drive out.
Nothing says family road trip like standing in the parking lot of a Cavender's Boot Barn in El Paso Texas with your shirt collar pulled up over your nose while you hold your child at arms' length so mommy can take off her shit-laden clothes.
As if on queue, Alyssa came home today from the doctor with a diagnosis of dual ear infections. Let us be clear: this trip is not a vacation, it's a refresher on the difference between having to go to work and getting to.
Everything was going great. The invitations went out as scheduled, Jen's prolonged visit allowed her an opportunity for a shower and bachelorette party, and when I flew out for the July wedding we took our engagement pictures. Then, on August third, just over two weeks away from the wedding, Jen got a phone call, and I got in big big trouble.
With full lights and siren this guy still wasn't stopping, but he wasn't exactly fleeing either. We were still ho humming down the road at maybe 45 mph. After another half mile or so, my brother made a shrewd, last ditch effort to keep his passenger in the car. "3536, coming up on failure to yield".