Tales from the Road

We just experienced one of three worst car trips our family has ever experienced, well maybe, five worst... we make a lot of trips and we have had some doozies. We left our house at 6 p.m., and brilliantly decided to drive a little and then go in to eat to give everyone a break. This might not have been a terrible plan, except for the fact that our kids eat dinner every night by around 6:30 p.m. Needless to say, the hour to the restaurant was a long one. 

We pulled into an IHOP at 7 p.m., and though very few people were there, we were seated right in between two groups, neither of whom had kids, or for that matter, seemed to have ever met a kid. Now, it is not as though we pulled up to the Palm, it was IHOP for goodness' sake, but I still felt like I had had a screaming baby on a plane full of executives. 

Our children weren't exactly horrible, but they did seem to have voice modulation problems. (Matt says they get this from me...) Will immediately bit a hole in his Styrofoam cup, something he does regularly because he is a complete and total thug. Sophie was distressed over a great number of things, eventually declaring "I just wish my life were different," (the immediate cause of this was her lack of a blue crayon...). Then, of course, we clearly smelled Will, and out of the goodness of his heart (and fear that I would curl up in a fetal position), Matt took care of that fun. As Matt and Will left the table, Sophie announced, "Well, it's just me and you, kid!" Indeed. And she had a lot to say... 

Not long after I scarfed down my omelet, and seriously considered ordering again, as I wasn't even close to full, I decided I had to put the other diners out of the misery as they had been listening to Will yelling "What dat?" at the top of his lungs as he pointed to every car in the parking lot. After taking a few laps with Will while Matt and Soph finished up, we were back on the road.

After a quick Starbucks stop, a bottle of milk and a dose of Motrin for the molars, we were in good shape. Almost to Chattanooga, I thought we were home free, I was reading The Secret Garden aloud to Sophie, Will was looking very sleepy, and all was calm, until... Slowly but surely, Sophie started making Will laugh. First it was a snicker, then a chuckle, then full on giggles. On the surface, it was very sweet, and Matt was charmed by our two children belly laughing in the back seat, but I had a nagging troubled feeling. I glanced at the clock, 8:06 p.m., Wild Will should be dosing off or at the very least quieting down, not revving up! At 8:50 p.m., we started up Mont Eagle, and Will's meltdown began. 

The giggling had given way to whining, whining to fussing, fussing to crying, crying to shrieking! Somewhere around Manchester, our little comedienne, Sophie, drifted off to the sounds of her brother crying his ever-loving lungs out! 55 minutes after the Scream Fest of '09 began, once we were on 8-40, Will quieted for more than 10 seconds. Matt commented that it was like being water boarded by your own children. I have developed both the crazy eye and a tick. 

I have no moral of this story, no sweet lesson learned... Just wanted to record it while it is fresh in my mind how our children decided to take us down. Plus, I want them to be able to read about how I developed the crazy eye and the tick, you know, in case they ever wonder...