Dante, Mike, Kearney, and I are all piled up on the green couch this morning, a creepy ghost movie on the TV, a cup of coffee perched precariously on the arm rest, the comics in Mike's hand, a baby wriggling happily in my belly, and Dante's head resting peacefully in the crook of my arm. It's a nice morning.
The rest of the week was spent bumping along backroads of Louisiana and the Mississippi border. I really felt the baby kick while I was driving, and I found myself talking to him in the car.
The rest of the trip was rather uneventful - just scene after beautiful scene of majestic live oaks, bucolic fields, and ancient architecture. A big craving for fried chicken raised its ugly head, and boy, were we in luck! I subjected Mike to some of the best fried chicken in the world: first at Eight Sisters Kitchen in St. Francisville, and then at the Old Country Store in Lorman, Mississippi.
That was a trip.