Within reach of our seats, the snack bag was now heavy with half-full bags of trail mix and jerky, empty raisin boxes, moldering motel breakfast fruit, and a slightly bloated container or two of warm yogurt. The backseat also held the computer bag, the nice camera, a beach hat, pillows, towels, a road atlas, and easy-access footwear.
As I looked at the haphazard mess we’d been carting around for more than 7,000 miles, I let my mind drift. I pictured our fantasy van, a clean and organized high-top with the junk from our backseat and trunk stowed neatly under the bed. I saw space for books, a fridge, and a little wooden garbage bin tucked behind the front seat. Those thoughts scattered as I swung into the driver’s seat, kicked…