8 pm on Sunday night, and my parents and I are sitting in my dad's Saturn SUV (he only buys American now). He is doing 85 on highway 101, tyring to make it home in time for the Cleveland / Orlando game. Meanwhile I am sitting in the backseat like a fat kid who overate his share of birthday cake, dozing off to Barbara Streisand on KOIT ("Light Rock, Less Talk"). My jeans are spotted with droplets of chocolate from the peanut butter and hot fudge sundae we devoured at Ghiradelli Square that morning. My shirt smells like fish and chips from lunch at Pier 39. There's a grease stain on the collar. Next to me is bag of taffy, mixed truffles and (half eatten) almond bark from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory . I think there is still caramel stuck to my hair from my afternoon caramel apple.

And I haven't even finished my In 'N Out Shake yet.... It was a good day.