It’s raining in South Georgia and traffic is backed up for miles. Anxiety mounts as I check to see if our daughter and sole passenger is still napping in the back.
When traveling with Erin, who has autism, moments of peace like this are gold dust, which on a 1200 mile journey, you hate to squander standing still.
I’m at the wheel which I stole from Bill at the last pit stop, slipping into the driver’s seat as he waited for a Happy Meal.
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