Tonight, we embarked to retrieve our two oldest peeps from the sticky grip of Grandparents Gone Wild.

On the way down, I ate this.
Shredded beef burrito bowl, mild, guac.
And then I bought this.
(It's on sale! And I had a coupon! And I swear, it's orange, not red.)

And we listened to this.
"Why'd you call me? Must be back. Disappointed man. Where you been?"(It's on sale! And I had a coupon! And I swear, it's orange, not red.)

And we listened to this.
Full disclosure: Until this very moment I always thought it was "Must be bad." I like my way better. More dramatic.

And this.
"Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't come around..."

And this.
"You know I'm such a fool fer youuuuuuu...."
"Don't don't don't don't don't don't don't don't come around..."

And this.
"You know I'm such a fool fer youuuuuuu...."
Siley occupied himself with De Pitty Light and Elmo.
We drove with the windows down and the stereo way, way up. I hollered out the angsty bits as loud and off-key as I wanted to.
It felt like 1995 with 2011's sensibilities.
And that's when it hit me: When you love your Honey and your life, even a 4-hour drive in a mini van with a toddler can be a pretty fantastic date night.
Go grab one of your own, Dears.