We left home without any hint of the regular sense of family drama, all too familiar from previous trips.

After decades of travel, an eventual sensibility about the importance of foresight and orderly planning had finally taken root.

Jen and I were sharing one small suitcase, and one duffle bag. The suitcase was for when we arrived in Florida, and the duffle bag was for our quickie one nighters on the way down.

Frank always packs his own suitcase.

Thank you God.

It is 11:00 a.m. Friday morning, the day after Halloween when I finally step outside of our front door and mindfully make sure that it is locked good and tight.

We are leaving in the midst of a serious wind storm. I am only three steps from my front door when I am blinded by the long tresses of my own hair as the wind furiously whips it into a froth.

I sincerely hope that this in no way reflects the tone of the trip we are about to embark upon.

A few moments later, I climb into the car and we were on our way.

It was 11:05 a.m. and we are right on schedule.

After a brief stop a the duty free, we cross the Fort Erie Peace Bridge into the United States. It was then that we all put on our best shiny happy faces for the customs agent who quickly waved us through as he immediately realized that we are far too happy to pose any threat to their country…

And far too silly.

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