Bubble Girl

We arrived midday to my sister’s house in Nashville. My sister, being the sweet and thoughtful person she is, bought a doomsday prepper’s amount of bubbles, bubble guns, and various bubble-creating machines, for my girls and their cousins (her kids) to play with. My brother-in-law Chris whipped up a nice barbecue while I heartily drank a hoppy. locally-made IPA and put the hard miles behind us. Though driving for two days with small children is akin to playing Russian roulette, moments like these wash away the terror like suds in the shower. Just don’t think about the trip home until the moment you leave otherwise your sanity will be compromised…

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