Donna Rose, off to the reeducation camp!

From 8:15 to 9 a.m., the Richmond, Virginia, RV park had a waffle bar! My husband sat on the bed and stroked my hip, murmuring of breakfast and coffee. I love him that much. I arose.

We made friendly conversation with the lady with the waffles. She made one for our baby, Donna Rose. Oh my goodness, a food you can hold, and it is a waffle, yum yum yum! We were on our way to the primary in South Carolina, we told her. We're Democrats (I did not say "terrible liberals," this time) and my goodness is our primary a hot mess! She is a Trump person, she said. She likes his "brutal honesty" but at the same time can see that it might not be the best quality, diplomacy-wise. We laughed together, chummily. No, Donald Trump's tact is not high on his list of himnesses! She told us of her parents, dyed-in-the-wool Democrats. "They would have voted for the Devil himself as long as he was a Democrat!" she told us. "My father voted Democrat every election in his life until ..."

She paused.

Oh my god, she wasn't going to say the n-word surely? Maybe "that one"? "That one" would be so much better than so many alternatives.

"... you know. Obama."

I looked at her. She looked at me. She knew exactly what made Obama different from every Democrat who came before him. As did I. I knew she knew I knew, and she knew I knew she knew I knew.

It was very unspoken, and very genteel.

We carried on. She was also voting for Trump because "we" work so hard to get good jobs, and the illegals come and take them. I was kind. "I'm from Los Angeles," I said, with kindness. "And I promise, it's great! Mexicans come, they start businesses, the economy thrives!" Oh, she had no problems with Mexicans. Just ... the jobs. Like working the breakfast hour 45 minutes at the RV camp waffle bar. She really was very nice. Also, she likes welfare and thinks it should be for people who really need it. Was she talking about black people, or Mexi-friends? Not even (this time)! She meant her no-good brother. Fair enough!

So it was nice! We talked nice to each other!

Then another lady came, and her smile turned pinched when we told her about our filthy, vulgar, liberal, hilarious website. "Thank you for the warning," she said, her lips pursed. "We're conservative!"

"Oh, it's not always a warning," I replied with a smile. "For some people, that's the best thing they've ever heard!"

She changed the subject to one less fraught. Were we "full-timers" in our Wonkebago? We've thought about it, I told her, but we're such old parents we just can't homeschool our daughter, or she'll never meet another child, and she'll turn weird. Ah, but there was an answer to that!

"There are homeschool RV groups!" she let us know, helpfully. "And they meet for a week and form bonds and friendships, and then they see each other every month or so!"

A homeschool RV group was just what our life was missing. We shall inform all the children about dinosaurs and measles vaccines and the actual Constitution, not the John Yoo one, and you will never hear from us again, as they'll have dumped our bodies somewhere only the RV homeschool groups know about, abducted Donna, and raised her as a Christian who understands about Mexicans and the Rule of Law.

Richmond, Virginia, come and drink beer and eat food with us at Mekong, from 5 to 7 p.m. tonight! (Wednesday.)

Charlotte, you're tomorrow! 5-7 p.m. at Triple C Brew Pub.

Charleston, you're Friday! Mellow Mushroom, 5 to 7 p.m. (the one on Magnolia in Avondale). Atlanta, you are Monday, and Memphis you're Tuesday, and we are never ever ever getting home.