I’m back from my 16 hour road trip.
We got in last night.
I’m still half asleep so I’ll recap how it went.
Number of times I thought my butt was going to fall asleep from sitting so long: 6
Number of times I ate junk food so I probably gained all the weight I’ve lost in the gym back: Errr...lost count...nothing is as good as a milkshake on a long car drive..hello expanding half asleep from sitting so long butt.
Number of times the kids fought: none. Shocking. It was because Tom was with me. Had I done the drive on my own, they’d have turned into mini ninjas and toys and food would have been flying back and forth and someone probably would have been tossed out the window. (Possibly me. I could see the kids revolting, throwing me out the window, and driving off with the car.)
Number of times I thought we’d get stranded on the side of the road and die from the hands of an insane murderer: once. We were close to running out of gas at 10 at night and the next station was 28 miles away. The light on Tom’s truck had come on and I was like, “Holy crap, we’ll have to pull over, Tom will go find gas and leave us here, a deranged man will pull up beside us, take us, kill us, and toss our remains in the woods." Luckily this didn’t happen and we could gas right in time. So phew. No deranged killer.
Number of times I watched GI Joe Therapy On YouTube: Many. I turned the volume up so Tom could hear. We cracked up. Seriously. Look up GI Joe Therapy on YouTube. The Army Ranger guy is the funniest. He rants about grown men who wear crocs. I'm a little concerned when a grown man wears crocs, too.
Number of times I cursed at other cars: er…lost count. But some people need to learn to drive. Pulling right in front of people with NO SIGNAL is rude. And dangerous. But mostly rude. And yes, that was my middle finger waving at you.
Number of times I drove: none. I was just sympathetic to the other assholes on the road that Tom had to deal with. I don’t drive because A) I don’t like driving the truck—it’s too big and B) I go the speed limit and Tom thinks this is too slow. He goes between 5-10 over and if I drive he’d be like, “Oh my GOD, it is okay to go a little above 70.” And then I’d have said, “I am making a good example for the kids and following the rules,” and TOM would have said, “YOU’LL MAKE THE 16 HOUR TRIP 18 HOURS IF YOU KEEP DRIVING LIKE THIS!” Then I’d cry, he’d sulk because I was crying, and one of the kids would probably throw up just because. So yeah. It’s better he just drives.
Number of times we were hugged by Tom’s family members who were shocked that we drove out for one day: lost count. It was nice to see everyone. Some people had never seen Natalie in person before. She wasn’t shy at all. She just climbed on available laps and showed off her toys. (“This is my Rapunzel doll. She has long hair. She wears a purple dress. I wish it were blue. She has a friend named Pascal. I bet he smells. Rapunzel loves Flynn Ryder but his real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. I like that name better. My brother’s middle name is Eugene.”
Number of times we said that we’d never make the 16 hour drive again: none. It was worth it. We'll do it again sometime.