Georgia Pea hes Exit 72

My dad believes in peaches. And weeds that look like flowers on the side of the road, trips to nowhere interesting, or at least we don’t think so. My family never went to Disney World on a vacation, even though we begged because that’s what families do, families take vacations to Disney World. “We’re not families,” that’s what he’d say, “We’re our family.” And we didn’t know what that meant except that we weren’t going to Disney World. So we’d drive to nowhere or some boring museum with things locked behind glass and definitely no pirate ship rides or princesses or little hats with mouse ears or or or and these were called Van Adventures and we didn’t know where we’d end up but that was the point, I guess, I suppose. Once, we made it all the way to Georgia, I knew because every quarter mile there was a billboard proclaiming peaches are what my dad believes in. So he pulled off the exit 72, I remember, and isn’t this better than Disney World? his grin said. So we bought peaches from the man at the stand and they were good, I’ll admit, maybe the best I’d ever had. Poetry 7