Two weeks of government contract lecture bliss ended Friday at noon. Kris and Z waited for me at the doors of the school Army JAG school. Certificate in hand, I got to the truck door; she said, “Home?” and we left Charlottesville.
We drove about 45 minutes before Zach got hungry and we stopped at a rest stop near Woodrow Wilson’s childhood home. Five ounces of milk, a diaper change, and a tour of Wilson’s house and life and 14 points plan. We had one major stopping point on this trip. Like most Americans, we were looking forward to Kentucky.
Z, Kris, and I pulled into Louisville. We took a tour of the Louisville Slugger factory floor and saw the machines that carved, sliced, and sanded the ash or maple into bats for Jeter, Griffey, and Ruth. Z cried at the noise, Kris fed him again, we looked at some famous bats. I bought a souvenir, 34-inch bat with my name engraved on it. I considered taking some batting practice on their pitching machines.
Z cried again and we left. A day and a few stops later, we pulled into our house in Wichita, the first family roadtrip a resounding success.