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There are many, many things I like about being married. All of those lovey-dovey gushy things, but that’s not what this is about. One of my favorite things about being married are road trips–at least once I’m in the car.
Why? Because my driving makes JB so nervous that he almost never lets me do it. Which means that I, an introvert who spends way too much time taking kids places gets to sit in the passenger seat and do… whatever. That whatever can include goofing off on that lovely smartphone of mine, reading a book, staring out the window. Or, like today, doing all of those things and then planning an alternate route home to avoid the interstate travelers that were rubbernecking the tornado damage from last week’s storms.
Don’t they know that staring is rude? I mean, it was obvious from their license plates that most of them were not from ’round here, but still. The long way home is more scenic, to be sure, but I was really pissed off that people were staring at the damage to my home, like it was some kind of show or something. It’s different if you’re from here, if you recognize what the landscape used to look like. I can abide that. But not the other.