A brief interlude from the Washington Saga

Every July the Etheridge Family makes a two-day pilgrimage northward to a cabin on the New River so rustic it only has basic cable. While Noah's dad and younger brother, Adam, work 35 hours in two days with his Aunt Linda and her friends—The Natural Born Grillers—at the Virginia State Barbecue Championship, the rest of us go biking on the New River trail then show up at the end of the day for a king's feast of free ribs and chopped barbecue. It's a trip I dream about all year long.

This past weekend, the Townsley Clan joined us at the barbecue festival, packing seven adults and a toddler into a one-room cabin with a loft. There were a lot of odors going on, to say the least.

For added fun, Ethan learned how to climb out of his pack-n-play crib. I didn't mind that he stationed himself on our pull-out bed with his stuffed entourage while we watched a movie downstairs. I put my foot down, however, when I realized that he wasn't actually sleeping on our bed; he was peeking through the rails of the loft watching The Road along with us.

I appreciate his advanced taste in film, but a post-apocalyptic tale of survival in a cannibalistic society isn't exactly 2-year-old material. I still remember quite vividly the score to The Killing Fields, which I watched as a toddler while pretending to be asleep on the couch.

One of this story's many morals is, I didn't get much sleep this weekend. Until tomorrow, I leave you with the reason why:

(Video recorded two weeks ago, on Uncle Ky-Ky's Macbook)