flying by the seats of our pants

In a couple of days, my little family is heading to Florida.

We'd been planning our road trip for some time. The decision to drive was partly about affordability but we also enjoy watching the scenery change and interacting with folks in the different states through which we pass.

This time, we were planning on doing the trip a little more slowly in order to take in more than the outskirts of cities along the way. We'd been thinking of taking a detour to Gettysburg on our way down and visiting Savannah on our way back (we have twice stayed in chain motels on the outskirts without going into the city. This notion breaks my heart).

The trip is long though (24 hours of driving) and exhausting (especially for T., who does all the driving) and while we have many great memories of our family road trips the whole thing can be a bit of a grind.

Last year, we had a great drive to PEI. The return trip was a different story. Before the keys had turned in the ignition, the boys were screaming at each other. While there were brief truces along the way (and I spent a fair bit of time in the back seat, so as to separate the siblings), I lost count of the number of times we had to pull over until calm could be restored.

The boys are both a year older now, so we were feeling optimistic.

But I couldn't help doing a little online search for cheap flights. And, after playing around for a while (it was rather like playing a game of Scrabble, or piecing together a puzzle), I was able to find a way for us to fly that was no more expensive than driving (it involved two of us flying on points and two of us going on cheap tickets but while we aren't flying together, we are, miraculously leaving and arriving at close to the same time).

We called a family meeting to discuss the pros and cons.

We were pretty evenly divided as to what we should do. There were lots of good arguments on both sides.

And then the boys started to bicker about whose fault it was that they'd fought so much on last year's road trip.

T. and I looked at each other over their heads and made our decision.

We're flying.

But I'll miss the corn bread at Cracker Barrel, the biscuits at Pop Eye and the road-side barbecue in the Carolinas and Georgia.

Maybe we'll go on a mini road trip while we're in Florida.