Or, more accurately, for the first time.
As you read this I am barreling down I-75 in a rental car from Priceline, beach gear and cranky three-year-old in tow. I had promised my husband's grandmother that she could see her favorite (and only) great grandson before the summer.
We lost our discount airline tickets, the only direct flights were sold out, and the open road was my only option. (I was talked out of going Greyhound by some wise women. The thoughts of recently released prisoners were enough to do me in, budget notwithstanding.)
So if you will, take a moment and say a little prayer for our safety and my sanity. Clearwater, here we come!