Every year for the Fourth of July, we travel to Montana to visit my in-laws.
It’s a grueling trip. Fourteen hours in total, which we split into two days: eight hours the first day and six hours the next. If we were young and childless, I doubt we’d find this challenging. We’d drive, find the hotel, eat dinner somewhere nice–perhaps somewhere adventurous!–snuggle up in front of the TV, and so on. In fact, I know we would, because that’s how we did it when we were first married. Continue reading