God Bless The USA

I snap this photograph off the parking lot of Dairy Queen, which has been on Eitan's mind the last 100 miles, if not the past several weeks. DQ is in the small town of Espanola on the NM-68, the quickest route (vs. scenic) to Santa Fe running mostly next to the Rio Grande river. Inside there is a table of seven or eight Hispanic boys located at a corner-booth offering a view of the restaurant otherwise filled with families and elderly people; this changes when the girls softball team comes 'a marching in - even I experience the frisson. The gals in uniform, legs showing, are loud and attention-seeking though not really flirty - they are probably too young to be aware of their effect on the boys. Or am I just clueless? Eitan stuffs his face into a mint-Oreo Blizzard ignoring the commotion. Madeleine a bit more interested in these things: "Are they teenagers?" she asks. Outside, in the parking lot, I chat with the coach who lives in the mountains about 50 miles outside of Espanola where, with coaching, he is the history teacher and PE instructor. He marvels at the kids' accents. We each secretly envy the other.

We drive by St Francisco di Assisi.

Me: "Do you want to see a church?"

Eitan: "No, I want to see a Dairy Queen."

Eitan, from back of the car: "We haven't been to DQ yet."

Me: "Well, that's your problem. DQ is everywhere you just haven't seen one."

Eitan: "You haven't seen one either."

Me: "Not true. I've seen plenty."

Eitan: "Why haven't you told me?"

Me: "Why should I do that? After all your teasing about my belly. I'm on a new diet. A no-Dairy Queen diet."

Eitan: "that's so unfair- your belly is not my problem."

Me: "Seems like it is now."

Roadside sign: "Stop Dreaming, Start Eating. Dairy Queen 12 Miles Ahead."

E: "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Sonnet, shocked: "Four hot dogs for five bucks. That's dinner for a family."

Eitan is unable to finish his extra-large Blizzard.

Sonnet: "Just don't get sick in the car."

Eitan: "Ohhh, suicide mission."

Sonnet: "Cut that out. Seriously."