On The Freakin' Road Again


So, here we are on day two of our family road trip to Florida.  My daughter’s stomach virus turned out to be a brief visitor (thank you, God!), and we were able to leave when my son got home from school yesterday.  I am actually typing from the road, trying to distract myself from the inevitable boredom that accompanies being trapped in a box on wheels for twenty plus hours.  After much begging and pleading last night, I finally talked my husband into pulling off at a hotel a little after midnight.  He wanted to drive straight through, but when I saw that my son was absolutely not going to allow his eyelids to close, I knew there had to be some cheap beds somewhere calling our names.  After a late start this morning (had to hunt down a Starbuck’s), we are at it again.  Everyone is on edge, ready to feel the blood flow through our legs again.  I’m pretty sure my ass is permanently molded to this seat.  The kids are now cross-eyed, brain-fried, and apparently deaf from watching movie after movie.  Every conversation they have with each other is now at FULL VOLUME.  My husband is having an air guitar concert to entertain himself, I suppose.  And it looks like a bomb went off inside the car — we have every square inch packed to the hilt with crap, crap and more crap.  I cringe every time one of the kids asks me to find something they’ve dropped on the floor.  Each time I have to sift through DVD’s, notebooks, sweatshirts, pillows, stuffed animals, games, and God knows what else.  The floor, it seems, has, in fact, disappeared.  The good news, though, is that we will finally be in the sunshine state later tonight!  Is that a light I see at the end of this long tunnel?  Why, yes, I think it is!  Until then, though, I will continue to chew piece after piece of gum (probably have had ten in the past couple of hours — at least it’s sugarless), channel surf the satellite radio stations until I literally drive my husband crazy, and entertain myself with all the classy billboards for the country’s supposed best all-nude gentleman’s clubs.  Life is good.

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