I wanted to be on the road right after rush hour was over. Three hours later, we're finally about to head out the door. But the wait was worth it, as we are now freshly freed of sand and dirt, thanks to another spell of supreme hospitality from danlmarmot and cpratt, and Skylar is well equipped for the waking portion of the ride home, with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs song "Maps" that she came to adore playing Rock Band and her third Calvin and Hobbes collection of the trip. It's the right age for multi-syllabic six-year-olds and tigers who are as real as you want them to be. And for Karen O, too, it would seem. Now if I can just get her to stop asking to hear different idiomatic constructions for the f-word which she learned yesterday, after nearly nine-and-a-half years of sheltered existence. "I'm so excited to finally know a real curse word, dad!" Luckily, Lou's was out of Pablo Honey, because she was keen on hearing the authentic version of "Creep," another song she came to admire on the X-Box. Well, it's time to stare at the white line for six-plus hours. See you tomorrow. Or maybe the next day, considering how tired I'll be after the trek.