Florida.
The countdown starts the instant we’re back.
Cross into Cincinnati.
Stop at Skyline (priorities, people).
Pull into the driveway.
Bring in the bags.
Unpack.
And then the kids, without fail, ask; “When do we get to go back?”
A week of staying up late.
Cousins that never have to leave.
Cannon balls with Grandpa.
Ice Cream at lunch and dinner.
Great Grandma Dee as life guard.
And on some days, swimming even passes for showering.
When can we go back?
