Encore: "Do you remember coming this way?"

The plane landed in Atlanta. I exited silently and walked slowly through the terminal toward the passenger pick up area. Lighted trees decorated the concourse, and I remember thinking, quite stunned really, "Oh yeah, it's Christmas." Mama and Daddy were still at least 45 minutes away from the airport. I bided my time in the food court, devouring a sandwich and chips while calling my sisters to say guess what happened to me.

Soon enough Mama and Daddy arrived, and I waved dramatically as the big Suburban pulled to a stop beside me. With a flourish of hugs and kisses and luggage, we pulled out of Atlanta Hartsfield a little after midnight and headed toward Birmingham, and I felt the suspense subside in this drawn-out drama of getting home.

But as I reenacted the events of the day, my weariness changed to theatrics. I mimicked the gruff Delta employee who tried to make me get off the plane and the "there, there" of the employee who tried to make me stop crying. I flipped my hair and shook my fist the way I did when I refused to give up my seat. I recounted the absurdity of the packed airport in New York. My final performance of the day was delivered to this captured audience who interjected questions rather than sympathetic stares.

But it was when - after at least 45 minutes of driving - Daddy looked over to Mama and said, "Do you remember coming this way?", that I knew this show really wasn't over. No, these two supporting actors came from the wings - from Alabama, precisely - to put on this final encore with me. We were lost in podunk Georgia at 1 AM, and the only person who could point us in the direction of home was one-tooth Bubba at the A&P.

When the Suburban pulled into the garage at 2:30 AM, I crawled upstairs in the comforts of home and tumbled into bed...and the glowing lights of the Christmas tree in my room faded to black as my eyelids closed like heavy stage curtains.