Finally back from the cape. I wish it wasn’t framed by a screaming four hour drive on each end, that really doesn’t warm me to the whole affair, not at all. But that’s how it began and how it ended. I don’t like to be in the car for that long, and neither does Roby. We made some progress on the way down by playing Roby videos and then by watching some of The Little House On The Prairie on youtube, but that lost its shine on the way back. On the way back she wanted milk, and she was not about to relax until she had it. So we pulled over, and it was fine. We should have done it earlier.  Had we done it earlier though, I doubt it would have made the drive much nicer, I’m pretty sure the drive would have been a drag either way. She didn’t want to sleep and she didn’t want to be in that chair. I didn’t either, and now she’s home and in bed. 

She likes home as much as we do, I think. She knows how to act. She knows what to do. Not that she seemed especially stressed out hanging out with her cousins, she seemed to really enjoy it, but it did seem like a bit more work than usual. Plus the different beds, the sand on the beach, the different food. It’s just an awful lot of difference for folks what are quite set in our grooves. 

I don’t think we’re going to leave the house until Thanksgiving. That’s for the best, I think.