That’s what Sloane said when I got home. DaddyBoy had to go to Puerto Rico for business last week, I sort of invited myself and mom (and Darby too, but she couldn’t escape) to join him for the weekend. We unfortunately had two days of rain, but the one day of sunshine was enough for me.
Another breakfast with DaddyB and his calendar.
Dad called the rental car “our clown car”. He only used the Garmin once, then he ripped it off the windshield and proudly announced that he did not need it. Sunday night after dinner (it was dark outside) we made our way back to the hotel. He was telling mom, “look Connie, I found a bus lane! Port-o-reek-an H-O-V, perfect for our clown car!” I did hear a few horns honking, but you know, in some places excessive horn honking is normal. Then there were blue lights. A police car coming from the opposite direction pulled right into our lane, forcing us to a screeching halt. The officer yelled something in Spanish to which Dad calmly responded, “veinteseis?”… asking if he was on “26″ (the highway). We had been driving the wrong way down a one way road into oncoming traffic for about 10 miles. The clown car would not have taken a head-on impact very well. Glad we survived.
I’ve challenged dad to give up Diet Cokes. This one was (hopefully) his last. I hope he enjoyed it. I’m proud of him.
Those two haven’t had a real vacation together since I don’t know when, I’m sure they were thrilled I tagged along. My mom takes a trip with her parents every fall, so maybe this is the beginning of a family tradition. Darby has to come next time.