Riding in Cars With Husbands

This past weekend saw us taking an opportunity to visit John’s brother, Bart, in Bryan/ College Station. The kids had a blast playing with him, and we enjoyed getting to spend time catching up with him.

Over the years, I have come to look forward to long car rides. For me, they are a tool by which I am able to catch up and really get to visit with the person I am traveling. This weekend was no exception. On the trip home, it was nice to get to have an uninterrupted visit with my husband. But before I talk about that, I think it is funny that most men seem to travel the same way. Let me know if this sounds familiar:

First, load all children, the wife, and all associated paraphernalia into the vehicle. Ensure all occupants are securely fastened into their seats. Turn on Sports Talk radio. Stop at a gas station and fill up. Send wife in for sun flower seeds. Gripe that she purchased the wrong ones. Stop and purchase a soda. Turn radio up. Turn radio to the conservative political rambling of Michael Savage, Rush Limbaugh, or other such mindless idiot. Turn radio up, just to watch your feminist, liberal wife squirm. Laugh. Wife is plotting revenge. Kids request music. Turn on their music. Kids need to pee. Sternly remind kids they were just at a gas station where they should have peed. Boys can’t wait. Three kids dance. Stop at McDonalds to let kids pee. Load everyone up. Order 2 boys cheeseburger happy meals with chocolate milk. One with fries and one with apple dippers. Order 1 girls 4 piece nugget happy meal with apple dippers and chocolate milk. Get on the road. 15 minutes later, decide you need to pee. Pull off at a gas station. Take two children with you. They also need to pee (again). Not so gently, remind them about the “pee when we stop policy”, blatantly disregarding your own transgression. Load up. Find more conservative talk. Kids fall asleep. Wife yells at you to turn that d@&# $#!* off. Full of the self-righteous indignation that only comes from listening to Rush and Savage Nation, inform her that not only is it not nice to cuss, she must be the reason the kids say potty words. Wife kindly informs you where to go and how to get there. Silence.

More silence.

Start talking. Talk about everything from parents to how to best revitalize the economy. Share laughs. Reconnect. Apologize. Arrive safely. Enjoy each other.

Ok, maybe you don’t have a mini melt-down and scream obscenities at your husband after the kids fall asleep. But seriously, a girl can only take so much.

The trip went well, and we are really glad we were able to get out of town for the day and visit. It’s fun to see other parts of the state besides the blur of 30-20-10 we usually see when we are traveling home.

And just as an aside…does anyone know Dubya’s middle name?? Or McCain’s?? I think the kids now know President Obama’s full name is Barack Hussain Obama. In a 5 minute span of conservative drivvle, I heard his full name repeated 15 times. Since when is it necessary to refer to a person using their full name? It’s one thing if you live in Pima and your name is John Smith, but come on people, how many other Barack Obama’s are there? “Oh, you meant Barack Hussain Obama! I thought you were talking about Barack Abraham Obama! Hahaha! Silly me!”

Oh, and just as another aside…all the pictures on the last post were of Caleigh bug! Now does she look like her mommy, or what?!