Time line, Thursday, Feb. 24th:

CLEVELAND

7 a.m. EST: Wake up with a Grade 3 hangover. Fuzzily recollect previous evening's Cavs/Rockets game. Being six rows behind visitor bench may have, in hindsight, been dangerous.

7:45 a.m. EST: Wake up again. Still Grade 3. Recall eating dinner No. 2 at approximately midnight. Contents of dinner? Unsure. But there was certainly ice cream for dessert.

8:15 a.m. EST: Finally get up, convincing myself I've moved down to a Grade 2. Pack my bag and check out of hotel room. The 1-block walk in 15-degree weather from the Hyatt to the Fifth/Third building in downtown Cleveland knocks some of the cobwebs out.

9 a.m. EST-noon EST: Work. Painfully.

Noon EST: Leave for airport. Enjoy a build-your-own burrito at my terminal. Unbeknownst to me, this would be my only food for the day.

1:15 EST: Mechanical problems. Delay.

1:30 p.m. EST: Leave, headed for Charlotte. Yes, I took a flight home from Cleveland through Charlotte. This was my own fault from hastily arranged travel plans.

CHARLOTTE

3:15 EST: Arrive in Charlotte, desperate for a drink (I slept through the drink service on flight). Get halfway to my gate... when I realize I left a package on my last flight. Turn around, walk a mile back to my gate. By the time I get back to my next gate, we're boarding and about to go. Decide to forget the drink.

3:30 p.m. EST: Mechanical problems. Dude sitting next to me talking my ear off. At least there is an empty seat between us.

3:45 EST: Finally, wheels up. From conversation with wife, I understand we're getting freezing rain back home. During flight, pilot tells us the weather in Kansas City "appears to be letting up."

5:45 CST: The dude sitting next to me is now talking about God. At least I have a cranapple juice in my hand. I'm clutching my new Sports Illustrated, but every time I look down at it, the guy starts talking again.

KANSAS CITY

6:45 CST: We land in Kansas City in a blizzard. Where's the freezing rain? Where was the "letting up" of the weather? I drove my Camaro to the airport... I'm screwed.

6:50 p.m. CST: Because I'm big-time now, I parked in the covered garage across from the terminal. Only problem? I flew back a different airline that I flew out. So I'm at terminal A in a blizzard, but I need to get to terminal C. I hate the Kansas City airport. Wait for the red bus...

7:15 p.m. CST: Finally, the red bus arrives. Father Time is driving the bus, and the other red bus is right behind him. Nice work, guys.

7:25:04 p.m. CST: I drive out to the top of the parking garage, and I realize that this could be a very short trip for me. The upper level of the garage is difficult for the Camaro to get through. If I cab just make it to the highway... maybe road conditions will be better?

7:25:49 p.m. CST: The Camaro spins out, and I narrowly miss the "Welcome to KCI" sign. No damage to me or the Camaro.

7:29 p.m. CST: A wrecker is on the scene! Wow! He offers to pull me back on to the road for $40. "Do you think I stand a chance out there?" "No." I ask how much to get me and my Camaro all the way to Eudora? $3 a mile. Sounds like a bargain to me, SOLD.

7:30-9:30 p.m. CST: The scariest ride of my life -- visibility is zero, there are cars spinning out everywhere, even the wrecker. We stop to pull a few cars out along the way. At one point the engine on the wrecker dies... after a few tries, the diesel engine fires back up again. Relief.

EUDORA

9:31 p.m. CST: After two hours, we finally arrive in Eudora. I'm expecting a big fall-down hug from Evey, but...

9:32 p.m. CST: ...Adro tells me Evey has burned her hand on the front glass of our gas fireplace.

9:35 p.m. CST: After a conversation with Amanda Abasolo, we determine we need to take Evey to the emergency room.

9:40 p.m. CST: Evey is crying, begging for us to take her back home. The pain in her hand is seemingly unbearable. Previously she had her hand in cold water, but now she's got it in a cold rag. That's not cutting it. My heart is breaking as I drive 35 mph on K-10 to avoid putting a second car in the ditch. Probably the longest 5-minute stretch of driving in my life.

9:45 p.m. CST: It occurs to Adro that we have some bottled water in the car. Adro sporadically pours this on Evey's hand to keep the pain down. This is a huge relief, and makes the last 10 minutes of the drive so much easier.

9:55 p.m. CST: If you were crossing Mass Street at this time, I apologize, but I was braking for no man and few lights. I pull Evey out of the car and rush her into LMH's E.R.

10:05 p.m. CST: The nurses are all cringing at the sight of Evey's burn, and confirming to us that a trip to the E.R. was appropriate. Evey isn't crying any more, she's mostly nervous and sorry for touching the glass.

10:15 p.m. CST: It's determined that Evey has 1st and 2nd degree burns on her left palm and her fingertips. They give Evey a big dose of Motrin for the pain, and she's suddenly a cheery girl again.

10:45 p.m. CST: Claudia visits Evey, making her day. "She must really love me!" Evey tells us. Claudia is the daughter of Elvira, who used to watch Evey every day. Claudia is a nurse in the E.R.

11:15 p.m. CST: We're getting Evey's left hand bandaged up. We watch so we can do it ourselves for the next few days. Evey's left hand has now been dubbed "The Monkey's Paw."

11:30 p.m. CST: I get to eat half of Evey's Popsicle, and it's the second best meal I've had all day!

11:45 p.m. CST: We're released from the E.R. after a lot of sitting and waiting. Evey is still cheery.

11:47 p.m. CST: Evey passes out in the back seat while we roll through Walgreen's 24-hour drive-thru pharmacy.

12:01 a.m. CST: We get back home. I eat that day's leftovers, and contemplate what a crazy day it's been.

12:15 a.m. CST: The Jones family is all fast asleep after a day we'll all remember for a while.

PROLOGUE:

Evey's hand is fine, it's recovering quickly from the burn. She's doing a good job of taking care of it, too. The hand will completely heal, according to the doctor. Evey's never taken any more pain medicine for the burn since that one shot of Motrin at the E.R.