It’s never as much fun driving home. We are all a bit deflated. We have none of the anticipation that propelled our way out … ten days ago. We have seen all the movies on our devices many times over. We are running out of food, on the last dregs of our supplies. We are grating on each other’s nerves. Sort of like the Donner Party. But not.
I brought our last pack of frozen cold cuts for the trip but forgot to defrost them. Here they are sunning themselves on the dashboard.

(Loud child in the way back: I cannot currently attend to you. I am blogging. Hush.)
It seems we have all been together forever. Other than M, I can’t remember the last time I spoke to someone I didn’t birth.
It seems that everyone is peeing a lot more than usual.
It seems that I didn’t fully clean off all of Sidney’s puke off my t-shirt.
It seems we are subsisting on Pirate Booty and stale water.
It seems that I have not explained to these children the importance of silence during a Springsteen song.
It seems like I might need a vacation from this vacation.