What was supposed to have been a seven-hour drive to the northern side of Wyoming turned into a ten-hour, four-car caravan of WHY DID YOU NOT GO TO THE BATHROOM WHEN WE STOPPED TWENTY MILES AGO? My mind leaked out of my ear somewhere near Lander (scenic, majestic Lander, LOOK IT UP), so by the time we got to our destination here in Cody last night my jaw was moving up and down in a robotic, mad cackle later exacerbated by both of my children staying up almost three hours after their normal bedtime. It is a vacation, and we are in Wyoming, so why not fuck shit up? I’m going to go tickle some bison and let Marlo play with snakes. Fun is going to be had so help me god you cannot stop me.
