Santa and His Blue-Suede Shoes

Last time Jack and I took a road trip was for his R&R back in April.

We rented an RV and poked along the California coast, familiarizing ourselves with the Sonoma County vineyards as we fumbled our way through the unfamiliar territory of parenting.

This time we have a slightly better clue of what we are supposed to do with such a little passenger in tow, but of course the game has changed and Quinn too now has her own ideas of what we should and shouldn’t do.

One thing that didn’t go over big was when half an hour farther down the road, horrified, I realized I’d left my bag (ok, purse) in a Starbucks and we had to turn around. Or as we headed towards sunrise and heard something like a bullet hit the car.

That time, Quinn knew it wasn’t something worth waking for. Nonetheless, her parents and the dog made quite a commotion when they realized not a bullet but a rock had fallen from an overpass and shattered the car’s back window.

After the chore of getting the window fixed in Flagstaff, Arizona, we all enjoyed a day’s break from the breakneck speed of the highway when Jack and Quinn saw Santa Fe for the first time.

There wasn’t much patience for museum hopping, but we did peek at some O’Keefe portraits of the desert landscape.

Meanwhile, Quinn summoned a small crowd when she flashed her three teeth at a group of tourists. Before we knew what was happening, five strangers were gathered around letting her flirt her way into their field of view.

By the time we left, they said getting to see her entire face smile had eclipsed the rest of the museum’s artwork.

Being entirely objective, we happened to agree but were generous enough not to charge an admission fee.

Now we’re back on the road, heading out of Oklahoma and on to Beale Street in Elvis’ hometown.

All the best from,
The Memphis-Bound Murphys