I hate it when it takes four-plus hours

We were getting a late start out of town last night, so we stopped at Chick-fil-A to eat supper. We finished up there around 7:20 and got on the highway to Atlanta. About an hour outside of town, we hit this:



And here on this blog, you won't find quality pictures like you'll find on Darby's or Heather's blogs ... especially not from a moving vehicle in the dead of night. While I was driving AND manning the camera. Ahem.



The traffic actually looks less impressive than it was, because I dropped way back behind the other cars so I wouldn't hit any of them while I was taking a picture. I'm cautious like that.

But traffic was backed up for miles. We sat and crawled and sat and inched for about 45 minutes, and then finally broke free with absolutely NO indication of what the holdup had been. I don't know why that's so frustrating ... it's not like I want to see if people are hurt, but I at least want to know if it was construction, an accident, whatever. But I still feel unfulfilled because we never determined the cause of the delay.

When we got to the Georgia state line, the rest area was closed. 10:06 on a Friday night? You're kidding. Truth.

So when we got to the first exit with restrooms, all the gas stations were packed. Full bladders combined with a $200 million PowerBall jackpot equal Very Crowded Parking Lots. There was no room at the Pilot station:



So we went across the street. Cars were wrapped around the sides of the building. I got Jakey out of his seat and put him in Grayson's while the big boys were inside. Jakey enjoyed a banana.



He was glad to get to stretch his legs a little bit while he watched all the cars arriving and departing.



10:21 Eastern time and we were barely inside the state. Typically we're already at my parents' house by that time.



I was going to top off my tank while we were waiting on the big boys and Grayson to come back, but there was no room.



So instead I just changed Jake's diaper and then left it on the dashboard. Because nothing says "high-class" like a diaper burrito on your dash.



We finally got everyone settled back in and got back on the road ... we didn't get to Marietta until midnight. Sheesh! Glad to be here, and I'm already hoping tomorrow's drive home is much less eventful.