As of today The Pilot and I and our shitty little dog are officially no longer living in Alberta and on the road to living in BC. A road that is filled with challenges and arguments and horrible renditions of songs that either involves butt sex or farts. Ya know, a typical road trip in the Tristachio household.
You know what's also typical? Getting a Uhaul late because Uhaul sucks ass and having to spend all night packing to make sure we get out of our apartment in time before the Land Ladies show up and torch our belongings and steal the dog. Because they like our dog, you see.
You know what's not fun? Having a fiance who didn't sleep the night before because he was too wired and then having to do the bulk of the driving because the female of the household may or may not have had a mild panic attack while driving the vehicle that is towing the trailer and who may or may not have been driving on the road like a slow ass grandma.
You know what's completely usual? The Pilot declaring this sweet quote after I ask if our child's first vehicle could be a van when we have a kid:
"Giving a teenager a van for a vehicle is a sure fire way for them to be having sex in the back of it with street rats."