On the way to Williamsburg, we drove within miles of my childhood home. Because I knew (1) it'd be a long time before we'd be down in that area again and (2) it'd be much easier on the way down compared to the way home when we'd be hoping to beat traffic, I dragged my family to the house.
To the surprise of the adults in the car, I was able to navigate straight to it. I was pretty impressed with me.
Then. (I couldn't find a pic of me, so you get this of Emily, her friend, and my mom. My mom, it should be noted, is about my age in this picture. Those legs! That car!)
Now. Except for different windows on the garage and a missing tree, I'm happy the house looks like I remembered. Maybe next time I'll be brave enough to ask to go inside.