Many, many moons ago (erm, like last month sometime?) Mimi and Papa Rock volunteered to watch the barnacle for the day so Rocky and I could do some major league shopping in Atlanta. On a normal day, the drive should be between 2.5-3 hours. On a day like this, it takes a little longer...
Sure, the shopping trip was my idea, but the snowflakes were not. With white knuckles and a few new gray hairs, Rocky and I
bickered bantered back and forth about who's genius idea it was to take a road trip through the mountains in February. Thankfully, shortly after crossing the Tennessee-Georgia border, the skies parted and we were greeted with spring.
We got right to work, zipping through Phipps, Crate and Barrel and other big city shops that we have been missing from D.C. We made such quick work that the credit card companies called to be sure we weren't sitting on our behinds watching George for the umpteenth time like a typical Saturday morning.
With all our hard work, driving through sleet and snow, filling the trunk with our spoils, we figured we deserved a champagne lunch and a celebratory piece of Nutella cake. But I was worried if our day was this challenging, what would the grandparents have earned? A new car? A European vacation? Turns out, our little man was an angel and even helped out around the farm.
Maybe we'll have to do this more often!