We are home.
Four generations of girls took a road trip.
I found it funny that each of us manifested our back-seat driver issues in our own special ways. Nobody is born a back-seat driver. It develops over time, largely in response to the specific male who sits in the driver's seat.
My grandma was constantly thinking we had missed exits or were on the wrong highway. She followed the signs meticulously. Because my grandpa was always making wrong turns and getting lost and running out of gas.
My mom always made sure that I was in the specific lane she wanted me to be in because my dad zones out and misses his exits all the time.
I asked my mom every hour or so if she was okay or if she was tired. Because my husband has drifted off to sleep at the wheel before.
Just an observation.
Emma and G-ma kept each other company in the back seat the whole way.
My hope is that Emma made many memories over this time that she can keep with her forever. Memories of her G-ma caring for her and being interested in her games and stories.
A lot of our drive home looked like this:
No kidding - we woke up to flash flood warnings this morning. But, no matter. We were determined to make a few stops that the boys never let us make and just enjoy the ride home.
We stopped at an antique mall
and at an outlet mall.
And we managed to run into this shifty character at a Cracker Barrel in Valdosta, on his way home from business travel:
We are glad to be home, of course, but so glad to have taken this incredible trip together.