This past weekend our family packed bags, loaded up the snacks and piled into the car. It was our granddad’s 80th birthday and a roadtrip was required. Trekking from Illinois to Ohio, you spend a good deal of time in Indiana. While we’ll spare your eyes of the outfits at McDonalds (where, I should add, they somehow RUINED an egg mcmuffin. I mean, think about it. Have you ever had a bad egg mcmuffin? They’re one of the few reliable things in my life. Similar to how you can always rely on a rainy day to ruin a good hairstyle, or an apartment neighbor to cook a curry when you’re hungover, I expect an egg mcmuffin to taste like an egg mcmuffin! Is that so much to ask? AND I know it wasn’t a mistake because we EACH ORDERED TWO. Maybe I shouldn’t have put our gluttony in caps, but honestly. That’s 8 bad egg mcmuffins. A decent sample size. But I digress.) yes, I will spare you the XXL overalls in line for breakfast and raggedy ann dolls hanging from gas station walls (wha??) and move directly to the good parts of the weekend.
Once we arrived we were so fortunate to spend quality time with our Grammy and Grandad. We had the expected – and feared – grandfather/grandaughter talk, we had grammy pepper us with questions about boyfriends and we of course, had many good laughs. On Saturday night, after the grandparents had tuckered themselves out we snuck down to the basement and raided the liquor cabinet. As non-Bourbon drinkers, I don’t think we were prepared for the treasure trove we found. The combination of drinks and pool, retro furniture and juke box tunes turned the night quite memorable!