Summer's Over ...
Of course the summer is over. But not to us. You see, it's still August as I write this for our November issue, which you'll receive in October (and we've been planning it since July). Don't make me explain; I'll just have to ask somebody else ...
All right, I will tell you about my summer vacation. But remember, you insisted.
Driving across the country to visit in-laws is never easy, since we have to spend most of our travel time exhausted, trying to think up in-car diversions for cooped-up kids. So we usually start our trips at night, because we get farther along the road when our girls are not awake. The only problem is, the driver often isn't either, so my wife and I take turns ... falling asleep at the wheel.
By breakfast the kids are up and squirming, but we feel gratified to have driven 700 miles. Unfortunately, Dallas is still another 700 miles away, so we spend the day exhausted, trying to think up in-car diversions for cooped-up kids.
After a couple of hours, we will resort to anything. Like singing "A Hundred Bottles of Apple Juice on the Wall" all the way through. Twice. Or "Hey, kids, let's play 'Throw Stuff Out The Window'" is always good for a couple of miles ... and a $500 fine.
It doesn't help that for the past two years we've gotten a flat tire in Kentucky.
HUSBAND: Dear, what did that sign say?
WIFE: It said, "Welcome to Kentucky."
TIRE: Phlumpeda, phlumpeda, phlumpeda ...
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