Two weeks ago we took the boys back up to the White Mountains for another romp in the snow. I didn't want to go. But I did. Because I'm a good wife and mother.
For those of you unfamiliar with the landscape in this part of Arizona, it is truly, amazingly beautiful. It had been rainy and cloudy all morning, and as we were climbing out of the Salt River Valley, the sun was starting to break through. It was lovely. One would wonder why I didn't just ask Monkey Man to pull over at one of the many pullouts so I could try to get a good picture. But those are people who've never had to listen to their beloved make snide remarks about how much faster we'd be there if only someone hadn't needed an extra stop for no good reason. I mean, Monkey Man's already irritated that he has to slow down to under 80 for the hairpin turns because his wife is screaming in fear. Actually stopping? Don't I realize we have places to be?