Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Stay 6 Days
When our family contemplates taking a road trip we weigh a few things as we decide what the perfect balance for our family is.
How long does it take to get there?
How much do you need to get done while you're there?
What will you miss at home?
How quickly will we wear out our welcome?
We have found that staying no longer than six days (with family) is perfect. As we pull away we're wishing we had one more day. But in truth we're starting to see our children throw a few more temper tantrums, our gracious hosts take a few more minutes to themselves, and our bodies start to feel the pull toward home.
The unfortunate part is that pull. It's really only strong enough to get your back in the driver's seat. Doesn't do much to soothe your aching arse when you are 6 hours in and still have a long way to go.
We find ourselves waiting in line for what we hope will be our last drive-through for the next month (seriously we're cleansing). Somewhere between placing our order and pulling up to the first window we start debating the best route. It occurs to me that we should have looked up a few things online before embarking on our return. Does anyone know if snow is in the forecast?!?!?
From 11:49 until 11:51
Mason starts singing, "I'm a parachuting!" This is a song of his own invention. It's not particularly fun to listen to and it goes non-stop for at least 3 minutes. This doesn't sound like a long time. But just imagine watching the weather segment of your favorite local news. Now instead of hearing, "Partly cloudy with a chance of rain and snow showers..." you hear, "I'm a parachutingI'm a parachutingI'm a parachutingI'm a parachutingI'm a parachutingI'm a parachutingI'm a parachuting." It grates. I assure you.
We cross into Colorado and at this point no one in the car is happy, amiable, nice, or pleasant. Myself included. In fact, I would say I was the most irritable. It might have had something to do with how bad I needed to pee. But as we all know, I don't do that in the out of doors.
Cooper moans, "I just want to sleep in my own bed." Amen to that.
A remarkably disturbing billboard comes into view. I won't go into all the details -- because it was much more interesting to see than to read about. But it ended with Genesis 1:1 and basically negated any reasonable educational measures that would advance any discussion of evolution. Where are we anyway?
We take a lunch break and then try to get back on the road. I get royaly lost. Oh I'm so mad that by the time I see a sign that says F Road, I almost blurt out the swears it's making me think of. And did you know Grand Junction has an F Road and an F 1/2 Road? You know, in case you didn't get pissed enough the first time around.
Cooper requires a pee break. We pull off in Frisco -- a delightfully quaint town -- and we find ourselves at the Loaf n Jug. Mason is asleep.
We're still barreling down the road when Mason wakes up and shouts, "And it's whacky!" from the backseat.
We're home. Now we'll begin weighing the deciding factors of when to go back.
PHOTO NOTE: Mason flexing his muscles. Now that's whacky.