We find a family on the road before Christmas…
Eight A.M. and the family was on the freeway, heading North, with less than an hour of Pennsylvania roads left to travel. Coffee-fueled and ready for anything not work-related, Todd and Claire man the front buckets. Little Ruthie, seven-years-old, and tiny Lizzie, barely one, hold the middle. From the rear, with the gear, nary a sound comes from ten-year-old Bryson. Fortnite suffers no idle chit chat.
Second down and goal to go! The Sunday morning before Christmas was a fine, if cold, time.
‘Can we listen to “Dominick the Donkey?”’ asked Ruthie.
‘Not again,’ Claire replied, ‘Ten times was enough last night. And, WODS will be playing it twice an hour – unless they’ve switched to some listless contemporary lineup – which would JUST BE STUPID.’
‘Say,’ added Todd, ‘How ‘bout a little Dandy and the Bass Slayers? They’ve got the best Christmas album. From ninety-seven? Maybe ninety-nine?’
‘Honey,’ Claire sighed, ‘Nobody wants to hear that tired, redneck, Bluegrass-pop vulgarity again. Let them go.’