Traveling Tales

Or "Let me make sure the life insurance is paid up"

We arrived home last night after being on the road for over ten hours. What a trip! Here are some thoughts on my trip.

I used to be a huge Simpsons fan until we couldn't get the network channels anymore. But I remember this one episode in which Homer is allowed to design his own car. One great part of his design was that he put the driver in a bubble seat so that the driver (Homer) wouldn't have to listen to his kids fight or his wife nag. Great, great idea. I think that was definitely NOT the reason the car was a total bomb. Since I am only the driver part of the time, perhaps one of those bubble seats for the passenger side, too, would be beneficial. That way I'm not tempted to reach over and give the driver a dope slap and possibly cause that unnamed driver to wreck. I can just hear it now.
"Mrs. Johnson, your husband says you whacked him upside the head and that is why he wrecked the van."
"He said what? I'm sure the concussion to his head is causing him to have false memories."
"Perhaps, but the contusions in the shape of your cell phone on the right side of his face and temple are not consistent with a frontal injury from the steering wheel. Besides his air bag was deployed."
"Look. I had to pee. He wouldn't stop. What would you do?"

Okay. The pee story is fabricated. But suffice to say we were hungry. We were tired. We were cranky. We had been on the road for a long time, and we were trying to get back home in time for my kid to see iCarly. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a stupid TV show was enough of a motivator for us not to stop to get something to eat. Oh, how bad that girl wanted to see iCarly. For the adults in the car, we would use any excuse to get home, get the smelly dog out of the van, and lie blissfully in our own bed amidst our own stuff.

What might have caused me to use a cell phone as a weapon? Well, I have this thing about my foot space. I don't need it. I would much rather use the floorboard as my personal stuff keeper. My purse goes there. All the snacks go there. A roll of paper towels. A box of Kleenex. Another bag with my book, another book to read, a notebook to write in (in case I want to write a scene for my NEXT book), several pens and pencils, my lesson for Sunday School, other work related papers, and some of my postcards with my covers on them. The plastic grocery bag used as a trash bag. And my shoes either with or without my feet in them. So, it's crowded. I get that. But it is so CONVENIENT!! I love having everything right there within easy reach.

But it drives my husband absolutely crazy. He has no choice but to drive because if he didn't drive, he'd have to sit on the passenger side with no room for his feet. It is all very disturbing

To him.

Something else that bugs him.

I read on trips. I read my book on trips. Yes. The one I wrote. But it's just so cool that it's a book! He always asks me about reading it. I always answer, "I know how it ends, but I like to read it anyway." When it gets too dark to read, the accusation is that I sleep. This hasn't been true since he broke me of the habit several years ago by hitting the shoulder of the road and jerking the car back on the pavement or hitting the automatic lock multiple times. Honestly!! Who has a valid gripe here!!?? Can you believe what I must put up with just because he wants someone to talk to while he's driving? Still. I would be glad to engage in conversation if he would give me a topic. Why must I think of something to say, then talk about it most of the time? Give me a topic!!! Oh, my gosh! I just had the best idea! I can read my book to him!!! He'd for sure close himself in his bubble seat then.