I could explain the reasons behind the road trip, but Quinn loves to do so. She’ll break it down for anyone who dares to ask or even pause long enough for her to begin her spiel:
“My Grandma Kristi was riding her bike, and she fell off it and bumped her head, and the doctors tried to fix it but they couldn’t so she died. So we’re going to her funeral. We don’t have enough money to fly on an airplane so we’re going to take! a! road trip!”
It’s remarkable how many taboo topics a five year old can get out in one breath, but when it comes down to it, she sums it up pretty accurately.
When I was little, a road trip was the two hour drive to my grandparents’ house. We always stayed the night because to drive two hours there and two hours back in one day was “too much.”
I’m laughing mirthfully at that thought now. Googlemaps tells me that our venture from Philadelphia to Rochester, MN, is about 1200 miles and eighteen and a half hours of driving. Now eighteen and a half hours in one day seems “too much” but ten hours one day and eight and a half the next seems “doable.”
Oh how things change.
The girls, who have no idea what this means, are ridiculously excited. Elsie practically begged me before bedtime to let her take a “short nap” so that we could get on the road as soon as possible. I think she might be singing a different tune tomorrow night, but who knows? Life and death can be surprising.