We were stiff. We were tired. But we were laughing.
Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate: This is not an article about a Kardashian entourage caravanning through Beverly Hills. big butt road trip
The sensible choice was to fly. But the fun choice was to turn our wide-load anxiety into a manifesto. We invited my brother-in-law, Dave (6’4”, 280 lbs, affectionately known as “The Lovable Fridge”), and the Big Butt Road Trip was born. Our first stop wasn’t a gas station—it was an auto parts store in Harrisburg. We bought three things: a gel-infused memory foam cushion for Dave in the back, a “purple” honeycomb seat cover for Lisa up front, and a seatbelt extender for me (no shame in the game). We were stiff
She wasn’t wrong. We are a family of “comfortable dimensions.” We like cheese fries. We have sturdy Dutch ancestry. And we had a wedding to attend in Nashville, 1,000 miles away from our home in Philadelphia. Let’s get one thing straight right out of