Phill has a golden weekend, what we called weekends without any call time when he was a resident. Then we would jump on a boat to Victoria or hike for hours in the Cascades or find anything that existed far from the hospital. A few times we rode our bikes along the Burke-Gillman trail to the tip of Lake Washington, grab a beer, and pedal southwards to home.
Today, with kids, this means that we find a family event to do--say the zoo. While we ate lunch surrounded by the gators of the Louisiana Swamp exhibit, we heard a group behind us discussing the omnipresent love bugs.
"What? You don't have love bugs in Arkansas? We've got 'em in North Carolina. We even barbeque them. We barbeque everything."
Phill and I couldn't help laugh. I think it is safe to say that in New Orleans, chefs make a po-boy out of everything.