A couple of weeks ago, Kelly, Jack and I took a trip down to Richmond, Virginia, to see our good friends Aughie and Colleen (see an earlier posting on Jack’s nocturnal activities). Jack fared very well on the 12-hour drive, rarely crying or asking for something (“outside!”) that was unrealistic.
He had the…um…opportunity to see the sights of small-town America, as we passed through the provinces of West Virginia, Maryland, and Virginia, images that I am sure will propel him to relocate to New York or Los Angeles when cash-sufficient.
It took relatively little time for Jack to warm up to our hosts; the morning after arriving, we went for a walk around a local park (in heat that reminded me immediately of summertime soccer games in Arlington).
Jack made sure to help Aughie cross the road leading to the fields, then showed him how to race horses (all the while, probably clicking his tongue and flapping his arms in an exaggerated impression of how horses are ridden). As usual, Jack won the race, and so dismounted first.
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