Dear Kid,

What an end to our trip. Yesterday we drove through

Florida—home of oranges, grapefruits, ALIGATOR HEADS!!!, and peach cider

Georgia—home of Spanish moss, PECANS!!!, more billboards per linear highway foot than any other place in the universe, and Atlanta (where it is practically impossible to get a speeding ticket because it is practically impossible to drive the speed limit)

Tennessee—home of country music (we didn’t hear any), Volunteers (we didn’t see any), and fog (we saw lots)

Kentucky—home of horses, bourbon, and other things we couldn’t see because it was after midnight when we hit Kentucky

Ohio—home of us.

All in all it was a lot of driving in the rain. Lots and lots of rain. Lots and lots and lots of rain. It was nice having extra drivers to split up the trip—thanks for all your help driving and navigating.

I especially enjoyed when Dad was driving and we had the great pleasure of listening to football on the radio—with spotty reception. Yay. On the other hand, Dad put on your headphones to block out your music when you were driving and I subjected everyone to the music from Chicago and Pippin (Pi still drives in a music-free environment) so I guess it was all fair. Then again, I’m not sure in which universe “fair” and “fuzzy reception” fit in the same sentence.

Welcome Home, sweetie.

Love, Mom

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