“You go,” mom said to me. I unlocked the car for her and bounded ahead, eager to do this one last thing on my own.
We’d gone searching for a viking tomb on a mountain in South Iceland. After a two hour long detour through a canyon that, surprise, did not lead to the viking tomb, we stopped to refuel and checked Google Maps.
When we got to the right place, we stood side by side and read the signs by the parking area. The viking tomb was on the far end, at the top of the mountain. My mom saw the incline and decided to wait in the car. I saw the incline and thought, “For the story, right?”