We made it

Even just a few hours of sleep can put a catastrophic lack of milkshakes into perspective.

Aimee took the early shift that morning, and brought our 3 going on 14 year old down to the lobby for some coffee (and orange juice in a coffee cup) before a quick dip in the hotel pool.

Quinn and I appreciated the much-needed extra sleep, and went down to join them poolside.

We were in no rush, so we dawdled down at the pool and then slowly packed up our room. But by this point it was 11, and I still hadn't eaten any breakfast. And, um, you know, hangries. So when Aimee saw me grumbling and huffing as I pushed our over-stuffed trunk closed, she kindly suggested that I swing by the lobby for a quick breakfast. Knowing she was completely right, and also not wanting to admit it, I silently sat down for green chili breakfast burrito. Three bites in, I was infinitely more empathetic towards Aimee’s episode of nomilkshakeitis the night before. 

With the universe back in balance, we made a pact to always keep an outrageous amount of snacks close at hand. I am referring to both the rest of our road trip and the rest of our marriage. So we sent our threenager out for some groceries.

I suppose we shouldn't have been surprised when she came back with nothing but bananas, chocolate bars, and Pirate's Booty. But there's wisdom in that three year old. We're going to make it. Good work, Mimi.

Next stop: A rest area about twenty minutes away from our last stop. Bananas really have a way of running through a three year old's digestive tract. But Quinn didn't mind running around while Mimi reconsidered her road trip fiber consumption.

All things considered, the twelve hour rolling hanger episode was hardly the worst thing that could have come out of our first real road trip with two small kids. I could have spent the morning pulling elk hair out of the radiator grill. Or more accurately, pulling my radiator grill out of an elk.

And just like that, we were back on the road. Doing this on purpose. As a vacation.