the. bungalow. post.

Thursday night, the air was still and sticky.  It was a mad rush, with forced resolve to be calm though, as we packed up old Trusty to head out of town.  The kid's were pumped to be going up to Grandma's cabin.  To fall asleep under the blur of orange highway lamps, to wake in the green blackness of Junipine.  We crawl 10 yards down the street and the grinding of the brakes stalls our quick get away.  "Well, hopefully, its just a rock" sighs Zander.
We pull back into the drive.  The kids squirm in their car seats while Zander quickly works to assess the problem. 
"It just went from bad to worse" announced Zander.
"okay, kids, I've got bad news.... We'll have to go to Junipine tomorrow."
Wah wah wah, yah dah yah dah, they got it out of their system and then passed out in their beds reassured that mom and dad would take care of it. 
Now, Mom did nothing but eat a box of cheezits and then cry herself to sleep because her toothbrush and toothpaste were a jenga piece wedged in a stack of suitcases in the back of the suburban.
Zander, however has the skillz to pay the billz yo.  He woke up at 6:30am under a slated sky that broke over his head in an outpouring of rain and lightning.  The wet weather did not deter his rescue mission.  Soon, he safely whisked his family away.

“Then if a child comes to you, if he laughs, if he has golden hair, if he doesn’t answer your questions, you’ll know who he is."  The Little Prince.