There's a fine line between between an American Road Trip and Mobile Torture Chamber, and my small family walked that balance a few weekends ago. Here's a glimpse into the journey.
Sonny has just turned seven. I can't believe how time has flown and how the small toddler antics have fully morphed into inquisitive, intuitive and perceptive comments and observations.
He's such a bright kid, and turning more and more into someone I could see myself fully appreciating even if we weren't related. Which is a huge compliment to him, and not much to do with me. I can give him the tools he needs in order to be a good person. It's up to him to use them.
Over the recent Labor Day weekend here in the US we decided to take a day trip down to the southern end of our state to visit my dad's side of the family.
For over seventy years that side of my family has had a reunion. I mean a real one.. with meeting minutes being read, the Pledge of allegiance said, lists of births and deaths, notable achievements, a moment of silence for those who have served in the military and those that have recently died. Plus a potluck to end all potlucks and enough beer and ice tea to fill an entire garage fridge. Poker is played, prayers are said and the kids run wild. Some years the hosts hire a local service to offer pony rides to the littles. And one time, the pony showed up with a Unicorn horn and Tutu around it's belly.
It was epic.
The first time I attended one of these, Sonny was only two...and we were all welcomed with open arms, open hearts and enough sugary carbs to choke a cow. It was a beautiful experience, and we've tried to make it down for this event every year since. Always contributing enough food and drink to assist the development of diabetes in over half the attendees.
Sonny had a few firsts this year. One of which is the delightful discovery of small plastic barrels filled with colored fruit punch called "Hugs."
Well it's basically crack for kids....and Sonny had downed three of these little bombs before I knew it...and was running laps around the house with a distant cousin and a gleeful rainbow stain around his mouth.
But I digress. The majority of this story is dedicated to the four hours it took to drive there and return the next day.
Early that morning We filled our Subaru with luggage and pillows and a cooler full of hard boiled eggs, chicken salad, brussels sprout feta salad. Along with non-dairy desserts for Grandma who has several food sensitivities. And we all take off at 7:30 in the morning. What my darling husband (the driver) wasn't anticipating though was the steady line of thunderstorms intersecting with the freeway almost all the way down to our destination.
This does not bode well.
For the first hour everything is quiet and calm. Sonny is knee deep in his tablet games. Grandma is sharing the back seat with him and has her phone volume higher than it should be as she's listening to various news and podcast show sources. Her phone mixes with the kid sounds from Sonny's tablet and it's mildly irritating, but not intolerable. Scott and I are up front navigating the trip on our phones and checking the weather about every fifteen minutes. It's a tense drive, but Scott is a great driver, confident and sure and I trust his skills implicitly.
After the first hour, Sonny starts waxing philosophical, once the Dinos on his tablet lose their sway. He's looking out the windows, elbowing grandma and generally asking way too many questions about eeeevvvvveryyything.
After the twelfth such series of questions...we both have had enough. When the inevitable happens. It's time for some retribution. The storms keep thumping, the wipers are going at top speed, cars are hydroplaning in front of us, and it's too early to stop for yet another coffee.
Sonny: "Daddy what would happen if the wipers broke off the car?"
Dad: Without a pause he replies, "We'd just tie you to the top of the car and make you use your arms to wipe the water off the windshield."
Me: "Snort, chortle..."
Sonny: "Are you for real? Would you really tie me to the top of the car?"
Me, looking thoughtfully at dad: "I think we have some bungees in the back, and I have my sunglasses here, so he could use those to keep the rain out of his eyes."
Dad: "Yeah...that works. I'd even let you wear my good ones, so the bugs don't get in your eyes." (The Oakleys Sonny lusts after.)
Sonny: (Fear evident in his voice.) "What if I fall off the car?"
Dad: "Oh we'll tie you down real good, you won't fall off, I promise."
Sonny: "Nooooooooooo."
Dad: "I'll make sure not to take the corners too hard either, and grandma can pass a water bottle up to you with a straw in case you get thirsty.
Grandma: Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, "Sure...no problem I'll make sure you stay hydrated, so you have the energy to keep your arms moving."
Me: "Plus the rain is supposed to stop in another hour, so you won't even have to do it the whole trip. But I think you'd have to stay on the top of the car, because you'd be too wet to let back inside.
Sonny: Anxiety peaking. "I really hope the wipers don't fall off the car!"
We give in after a good laugh at our son's expense and reassure him the wipers won't break off the car. But Sonny only lets his brain rest for about twenty minutes. Soon another question rears its head.
Sonny: "Dad, what if the car breaks down and the tires fall off and we can't go any further...what happens then?"
Dad: "That's when we stop the car and start walking. I hope you brought your good tennis shoes!"
Sonny: "Really? We'd just walk the rest of the way?"
Dad: "Yeah...it would only take about another nine hours of walking. We'd get there in time for dessert. But you'd have to be a big boy and help carry the cooler and your suitcase. Can you do that?"
Me: "Heehehehehehhe"
Sonny: "Yeah I can do that....but that's a looong walk, I might complain." (Sonny complains when we go on walks if he's not interested. I can't imagine a nine hour walk!)
After we put him out of his misery and explain what would happen if we really broke down...there's blessed silence for another half an hour or so.
Then more questions start peppering me from the back seat.
Sonny: "Mama, what would happen if I ate hair, like all the hair on your head."
Me: "Nothing good son, nothing good. (My stomach turns.).
Sonny: "Mama, would I die if I ate all my teeth?"
Me: "Ooof, probably not, but it wouldn't be a great idea to eat teeth."
Sonny: "Mommy, what about rubber bands? Could we eat rubber bands?"
Me: "Are rubber bands food?"
Sonny: "No, but would it kill you?"
Me: "Sigh, Probably not, but it would depend on the quantity."
Sonny: "What if we ate wood, or trees, would that kill you?"
Me: Brightening up with an anecdote. "Did you know that some bread and foods actually have plant or wood fiber in them, only they call it cellulose? So in a way, sometimes we do eat trees. BUT, if you ate a whole pile of wood, it would probably make you very sick."
Sonny: "What about paint, can we drink paint?"
Me: "Absolutely not....that would probably kill you."
Sonny: "AHahahaahah... I know, I was just checking.... then grinning deviously... "What would happen if we ate poop?"
Me: "uuurp..don't ever eat poop!!"
Grandma pipes up: "Did you know that sometimes they give hospital patients with digestive issues...."
Dad: "That's enough of this conversation." and he turns on the radio which effectively silences the peanut gallery.
However, said peanut gallery continues to cause ruckus in the back seat. pushing and shoving on each other. Grandma is poking the kiddo, and he's squealing and poking back. Stealing her glasses and pulling on her hair...it's a riot.
Dad: "Do I need to pull the car over?" He looks at me with a grin. "I've always wanted to say that!"
The back seat quiets immediately, but there are stifled giggles, and rustling bags of pretzels and leaky water bottles to deal with later.
Eventually the rain stops about three hours into our drive, and the sun breaks through the clouds just as the road levels out and the big rigs seem to finally remember it really is a holiday weekend. We all relax and have a piece of jerky and some Gatorade from the most recent gas station.
Sonny seems sated with all his questions, either that or he's terrified to ask anymore, based on our history of answers. He's so much fun!
But I fear that once he learns the art of the "Gotcha " I'll be doomed. Please share some of your own best "gotchas" in the comments. I can't wait.