We returned this past Sunday from a week in Colorado, about which I will write in more detail soon. A short aside to a lovely long trip is all I have time for at the moment.
While in Colorado, Two discovered that motorhomes and campers weren't illegal. Or as he likes to refer to them: "caravans".
See, after watching more than his lifetime allowance of Top Gear, and hearing the three boys on it rant and rave about caravans and the blight they are to all decent people's lives, he naturally assumed something must have been done by now. Those caravan drivers must have been put off the roads for good, their caravans smashed, and law and order restored (along with a decent speed limit, I'm guessing).
Imagine his horror, then, when while driving down the mountain to go white water rafting one morning, Two discovered the road blocked by a large, ugly, white caravan. "Arrrrrrgh!" he howled. "What is that doing there? It's in our way. It's stopping Dad from driving fast. It's slow. It's horrible. Take. It. Away."
I don't think he'll ever live that reaction down. Then again, I don't think he'll rest until he's made the pesky things illegal, either. Wally Byams, watch out: my 8 year old is coming for you.