Packing my bags’, knowing a sign that reads “Welcome to Branson” will soon be in front of my eyes, is one of my favorite traditions’. The Isch family only takes this trip every three years, so when I find out that we are going to take the trip, I always get enthusiastic. The consistent hum of tires racing across the road, and the warm sun shining through the windows is enough to generate eyelid’s fall. Before I know it, I am getting shook awake from my brother, either Daniel or Brandon, who is telling me, “We are almost there.” Eyelids’ pop open as we look out the window at the hills and valleys. A “Welcome to Branson” sign comes into view. The family who arrives first, gets to claim any room they want. When everyone has arrived