Husband sort of unexpectedly drove Pickles and Pumpkin Pie to Camp Mamaw. I mean, of course he knew he was driving them, but Hurricane Irene (who I hate) got on my last freaking nerve and plans got changed and there he was driving to Camp Mamaw to drop them without much advanced notice.
Without days to build up their
annoyance excitement levels, they were frea-king out! They were so excited, their teeth were vibrating. The car ride is 3-4 hours, and by the end, Pumpkin Pie really really really wanted to be there already. Husband had to slow down because of a car in front of him:
Pumpkin Pie: Why are we slowing down?
Husband: The car in front of us is going a little slower than we are.
Pumpkin Pie: Daddy, just ram him!
Husband: I can’t do that. They would call the police on me!
Pumpkin Pie: Oh, you’re right. You don’t want to go to jail. And I don’t want to go to juvie.
All rightly then.