Oh Georgia

We get up in the morning and collectively decide that we’ve had a lot of fun but that we’d all just like to go home so we packed everything up, checked out, and we were on our way out at 8:30am. The GPS said we would be back by 12:30. Knowing that stops for gas and food balance out the time gain we get for speeding just a tad we were hopeful for sane arrival time. I realize now that I should have reset the triptick on my GPS. I’m still kicking myself. Anyway, we pulled out of the hotel drive-thru mickey-dees for some breakfast and get on our way.

Then the hurlfest began in the back seat. Both boys sicked on cue (whose cue? Blues cue — hah! Sorry, parent joke). For fifteen minutes we were stuck barely a block from our hotel. Being the hardy Viking descendants that we are we just started bailing on the go whipping out dirty clothes (outerwear only) as towels. After about an hour the all-clear siren rang and we made it through the rest of the trip without further body fluid cameos.

Which isn’t to say it was a completely uneventful day. Northbound Georgia was just as packed Saturday as Southbound was on Wednesday. We watched as the GPS estimated arrival time slowly creeped up from 12:35a to 2:30a while we plodded along in stop and go traffic for hours. It finally thinned out in the southern suburbs of Atlanta when the highway split in two. Half went each way with us striking off to the Northwest.

Between the light rain and the mountains we lost another 15 minutes or so in Tennessee and Kentucky but we picked them up again in nice flat dry Illinois. At or around 2:30a Sunday morning we finally pulled up into our garage safe and sound. Everyone was tucked in and asleep by 3 including me. And that was that.