"Three days, Josh. I absolutely cannot do more than three days."

"You can hang by your thumbs for five days."

"Would you want me to have to do that?"

"Well, no."

"Well, this is going to be worse. Three days."

She'd been absolutely adament when I booked the tickets. In fact, at one point she'd tried to convince me that arriving at 8pm on the 24th and leaving at 7am on the 26th counted as three days. I'd gently but firmly insisted that we spend at least 72 hours with her family, so we are arriving at 10am on the 23rd and we are leaving at 10 am on the 26th.

She'd just rolled her eyes and said "I guess you have to find out some things for yourself."

I look at Donna staring out the window of the plane and smile at her reflection. It's her family. They raised her. How bad could it be?