We left Anaheim this morning. It was tough to say goodbye to our (gorgeous, spacious) hotel room but the blue skies and sunshine put us in good spirits. We loaded up on coffee and hit the I-5 at 9:45. We thought we'd have a pretty chill day. It was our "wing it" day. Our "plan nothing, see where the wind takes us" day. Sometimes keeping scheduling to a minimum results in the best memories. And sometimes it results in you hitting the outskirts of San Francisco at 5pm on a work day and sitting in rush-hour traffic with a constipated, teething, screamy baby for the 90 minutes it takes you to drive the 20 miles to your hotel where they charge you FIFTY AMERICAN DOLLARS to park your vehicle for less than 24 hours.
I let the concierge think he was breaking into the closed kitchen to get orange juice for Grady and then I went upstairs and mixed that orange juice with vodka is what I'm saying.
Starting our trip home with an accidental 10-hour driving day (when we were expecting a 7-hour day) does not bode well for our sanity. We need to find an open field for Grady to run in tomorrow before he goes absolutely batty.