Home again

So I was having this dream the other night — a fantasy, really — where Sophia slept for the entire ride back home, all 9.5 hours of it.

One of my favorite bridges. The view is always spectacular.

The reality was that two hours from home, she decided she was done with driving. All attempts to put her back into the car seat after we’d stopped for a bathroom and boob break were met with extreme unhappiness and crying. And not just wah wah crying. I’m talking the kind that almost sounds like a song. The kind of crying that’s got those long drawn out WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHs, like she’s trying to hold out a note at the end of a song, or win a “Let’s fry our mom’s wits with neverending wailing” contest.

Even though I don't like driving in the U.P. at dusk, you can't beat sights like this.

To be fair, it’s a long drive, even for an adult. Let’s just say I was quite pleased when we could leave the Burger King parking lot in L’Anse after we’d sat there for forty-five minutes, just kind of shooting the shit and watching weird people drive through the drive-thru. And to make it for ten hours without throwing much of a fit before then? Maybe my daughter’s gifted! Should I start applying for advanced pre-schools now? I kid, of course. After all, her newest “thing” is ripping enormous sheet-rending farts and laughing afterward. Yes, honey. It’s quite amusing.

Laughing and talking after one of our many McD's stops

We finally pulled in twelve hours after we’d left the burbs that morning. I fondly remember when this trip took about nine hours (eight and a half if I drove like a MFing maniac). But spending the time with my parents was most definitely worth it.

Don't tell them their picture is on the Internet, ha.