This is not my father's roadtrip

When I was young we often went on long road trips to visit family. We'd pile into the car at 4 a.m., eat a Hardee's breakfast somewhere down the road, try and find someplace serving lunch at 10 in the morning. Other than food, we only stopped for absolute potty emergencies. There were no electronics save the radio and tape player. We played oodles and oodles of car games. We'd drive late into the night and finally stop to find beds long after my brother and I had fallen asleep in the car. We'd be up and out at 4 the next morning and so it goes again. They were rough trips but I remember them as full of family fun.

Last week we went down South to pick up Monkey & Peanut. We traveled down, dropped off Puddin', went to the big city for a 36 hour date, back to the in-laws, and then packed up all the kids and headed off to camp. We had to get Monkey & Peanut to West Virginia at a certain time on Sunday afternoon so the best way to manage this was to stay overnight halfway through and then continue the next day. I told Stan my standard was no cockroaches. He found a lovely spot with rustic charm and a French-inspired bistro on the first floor. For breakfast I had a feta and carmelized onion souffle with fresh fruit and drinkable (tasty, even) coffee. Sitting outside, listening to the waterfall, drinking my coffee, I could barely hear the sounds of the bickering children. What a blissful and civilized way to start a day of traveling.

(For the record, the sippy cup was not mine.)