Remember the simplicity of going on a road trip. You sat in the back seat and looked out the window. You had the copy of Flowers in the Attic, that you "borrowed" from your cousin, the last time you were over there, for when your dad took over the radio and made you listen to the Willie Nelson Red Headed Stranger cassette the whole way. You rolled down the window because it was Texas in the spring time and the air was already warm. Your mom packed ranch Doritos and Dr. Pepper, and your dad said "Don't drink it too fast" , I'm not stopping every five minutes. Sometimes you played slug bug, or I spy. Eventually you got where you were going in one piece and the pretend misery was over, because deep down it brought a special thrill to be going on an adventure, even if it was just to your grandmother's house.