It's officially the day after Christmas. I know this because 1. the calendar told me so, 2. Santa ate all the cookies, 3. the stockings are no longer hung by the chimney with care (ok, I don't have a chimney, so technically they never were), and, 4. we're in Maryland.
We are officially in Maryland. I know this because 1. I saw the signs saying "Mason-Dixon Line" and "Welcome to Maryland", 2. I started in with the "y'all", 3. It was drizzling and people were driving like the rain was sent by the love child of The Four Horsemen and Nostradamus, and, 4. Everybody loves to drive 90 mph and then slam on their brakes. Over and over and over again.
But we're here, and it's great, and all that driving and slamming breaks and hurry up so you can slow down stuff doesn't matter. We made our best time of the trip on the Washington DC beltway. If you know anything about Satan's highway, you know just how insane that sounds. We made our worst time....30 minutes from home, where we sat on the highway and didn't move for upwards of an hour. So, it's a Topsy-turvy world out there.
The annual day-after-Christmas drive is something The Tuna Clan actually looks forward to. What's so appealing about an all-day date in your car? It's forced rest. There are no concerts. There are no commitments. There are no plans, except to get to where we're going in one piece. The day after Christmas is a major symbolic turning point. It means we made it through the fall, and through the
It's good to be on the other side of December 25th, y'all.