Vacations

David and I have been pondering an existensial question for several years now: When does a vacation really begin? Does it begin when you finally shut off your computer, empty the last dish from the dishwasher, or close your schoolbook? Does it begin when the car is loaded with bags and snacks? When the vehicle has pulled out of the driveway or the wheels are up? Or does it really begin when you have arrived at your destination, be that Grandma's, Gran Canaria, or the couch? We have wondered because sometimes vacations seem an awful lot like work. However, I think we have finally come up with an answer...and a picture to illustrate.

The vacation begins when the raisinettes begin to fly. (Left corner of the mouth. Artfully pelted by me from the front seat. Reaction time: approximately 7 minutes.) I just love roadtrips.