Hours and hours in a car.
No iPods allowed.
Ahhhh ...
I love holding my children captive.
I love those long road trips where we share a very small space and where our words get swirled around over our heads.
We share our music (appropriately rolling our eyes at each other’s choices while we let ourselves meet - and enjoy - new stuff).
I get to hear about things I would never hear at home ... because there is so much time to talk and so much time to listen. And so little room for the words to get lost.
I hear what is important to them. I tell them what’s important to me. They listen and sometimes ask me more.
I hear them talk about other trips and I let myself believe that for all the times I might have screwed up, there are plenty of times when I haven’t.
I watch them whisper to each other and explodes in laughter.
I ask my rearview mirror to never fully erase those images.
I am in heaven.
And then, when we find out after half a day of driving that I accidentally booked a campsite TWO hours away from where we are going, I hear them tell me that it’s no big deal: they love being in the car.
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