We shuffled the girls through the rotation of sharing the hard as a rock, not-enough-room-for-a-little-butt-cheek, middle seat. By the time we hit a few grocery stores, the wine store (essential), and the sports store for a kayak, we had already been sitting in the darn car for hours.
And the rain rain rain came down down down.
Everywhere we went, the people were complaining about how it was the worst summer ever. We of course, hoped that we had brought bright, sunny weather from California. We refused to buy into the foreshadowing of gloom and doom.
Alas, we loaded our purchases into the car, tried to keep a stiff upper lip, and braved the torrential downpour.
At the sport's store, the nice man lashed the new kayak on top of the car, ignoring the pelting drops. He was Canadian, and he was making the best of it with smiles and sarcasm.
We drove slowly and carefully away from civilization. I squinted through the glass, trying to keep a steady eye on the road through the water-soaked windshield. The words 'Cabin Fever' kept slipping into my mind. As we twisted and turned out of civilization, I had flashes from "The Shining."