We Danced. We Sang. We Stole Things.

Like that album title, for example.

Desperately in need of clearing our heads for a few days, we skipped town last week and headed north to our favorite getaway: Sedona. New each time, and never disappointing.

Each vacation must have a soundtrack (Amaro Family Rule #48) and this time, tracks #2 and #3 off Jason Mraz's latest piece of work were the (only) songs on our playlist. By day 3, Daniel was singing along. No joke.

Who would have guessed that those quirky, over-played top-40 hits would turn out to be our family's love songs? Those two opening chords to "I'm Yours" relaxed us more than a massage or martini ever could. (It's so fun to make drinking jokes when you don't drink...)

This mini-vacation was exactly what we needed. We ate homemade breakfast on the patio. We went creek-stomping in our backyard. We soaked in a jacuzzi under a billion stars. We played in warm fountains and breathtakingly cold creeks. I'll spare you the exhaustive list of luxuries, but suffice it to say that by the end of day three, the tension had melted away. In it's place were easier smiles, sillier songs and more family hugs.

In a perfectly magical moment near the end of the trip, Daniel and I danced barefoot on the red rock patio to the antequated guitar stylings of a local musician. Puffy white clouds drifted lazily through an impossibly blue sky. The day practically sparkled with perfection... or maybe it was just the misters. Either way. I could live happily forever in that moment.

This trip was less about Daniel and more about his parents. But Daniel, as you read this later, understand this: The right priorities in a family don't always happen automatically. You have to work for them. And fight for each other. And make a concerted effort not to let each other get lost in the day-to-day shuffle.

And sometimes, that kind of clarity can only be achieved with a roadtrip and some cold creek water.