On our ride over to the Oregon coast, Dustin and I were feeling extremely energized as we were becoming increasingly aware of just how good this trip was going to be.
We realized that it had been about six months since we had both been away from our home and lives (and all of their degrees of responsibility) so we discussed things that we used to when it was just us in San Diego. We talked about why it could be that grapes are deadly poisonous for dogs (along with raisins... don't test it. It's a fact), the old scallops vs. shrimp being the best topic, odd side jobs, etc. It was all very relaxing and fun to hang out like the buddies that we are and not just the soon-to-be-parents, home owners, job havers, bill payers that we also are. Dustin, in all of his enthusiasm, exclaimed, "We can do it! We just have to grab life by the throat and kick it in the balls!"
After cleaning up the jo-jo chunks I had spit all over the dash of the car, I took away his coffee because, clearly, he'd had too much.
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