Road trip

Scene One: Father and Mother packed into the front of the incredible shrinking, car. Electronic cords jutting out of every available socket. Merle Haggard playing too loudly on the car radio. Father stretched out to the hilt in the driver’s seat, zero obstructions, maximum leg room, only moments away from the “man zone” where no sight, sound, or smell can penetrate his thoughts. Mother, squeezed into the passenger seat with purse, make-up bag, diaper bag, two sippy cups, one liter bottle of water, daily newspaper, camera bag, Reader’s Digest, and laptop computer, knees touching the dash. Two children in the back, strapped into carseats, neither of whom have had naps. Mother prepares to work as she stares at a blank page, attempting to collect her thoughts.

(Children in the back):
“Can I have my computer?”
“I have an owie on my knee and on my thumb. Not this knee; not this thumb. This knee. This thumb. I want Daddy to kiss it. Not you kiss it, Daddy kiss it.”
“Look, Mom, a garbage truck!”
“Are we off the innatate, Mom? Are we on the highway? Are we going on the highway after the innatate?”
“Dad, you need to pass that Jeep!”
“I need a dwink!”
“Why we going this way? Why we going down, down, down?”
“OK, Mommy, we won’t talk.”
“Sorry Mommy.”
(Talking to himself, under his breath) “You gonna get a panking for talking back here.”
“Walking down the street. Walking down the street. Walking down the street.”
“Look! It’s Daddy’s bus!”
“Are we going this way? Why we going this way?”
“Are we off the innatate, Mom? Mom-mom; Mom-mom; Mom-mom.”
“Look, Mom, it’s Barney Backhoe!”

Scene Two: One hour into the Road Trip; oldest child finally sleeps in the back; youngest child reaches a state of delirium.

“I want out! I want out! Lettttttt meeee ouuuttt!”
“I’ve got two shoes, Cooper’s got two shoes, Mommy’s got two shoes, and Daddy’s got two shoes.”
“I’ve got a shirt, Cooper’s got a shirt, Mommy’s got a shirt, and Daddy’s got a shirt.”
“Why are we going this way? Why are we going slowly? Why are we stopping at this stop light?”
“I need a Kweenex. I do it myself. Schoooooschk” (before Kleenex is applied to the nose). “I did it, Mommy!”
Five minutes later…“I need another Kweenex, Mommy!” (Mother tosses first Kleenex she can find to the boy.) “Oooh, Mom, booga-booga. Can I have a clean one, Mom?”
“Clouds! Clouds! Get outa da way so the sun can wake up!”

Scene Three: Five minutes from the final destination, youngest boy falls asleep. Father continues driving in the “man zone” now blaring a 10-song, Jerry Reed medley of East Bound and Down, and other Smokey and the Bandit classics. Mom takes one last deep breath before she shuts down her computer, and as the car veers into Gramma’s driveway, she opens the door, and wakes up her two, sleeping beauties.

And that’s All in a day’s work!