
This was the question facing us at 4pm on a Thursday just before we headed to Michigan a few weeks back, and well, either our genius failed us, or we thumbed our noses at logic and packed the kids and the dog in the car anyway. First, we stopped at the bank to sign our power-of-attorney forms, since we’d be closing on the house in absentia. The frenetic little banker inside, who reminded each of us more than once just how much of a rush he was in, was the first sign of things to come. This was accompanied and/or followed by:

• The drive from Somerville to the Pike, normally a 15-20 minute endeavor, which took over an hour.
• The unrelenting sun, which I swear beat mercilessly down on us until 8 or 9pm, when our black dog had nearly melted in the hatchback.
• Surly parents (read: not speaking to each other at one point) and very crabby children—understandably so—one who relies on the motion of the car to be lulled to sleep, the other who cannot bear to hear his brother crying (“Mommy, you feed him NOW.” [of course this was physically impossible from the front seat of the car]) and so began a feigned wailing of his own.
• Traffic and construction speed limits once we hit the Pike, which put us just 2 ½ hours away from home after 7 hours on the road.*

*Did I mention that our A/C works sporadically at best these days and our car doesn't exactly accommodate 4 people and a large dog, plus all their gear (think essential baby gear that must be transported since grandma will not have an equivalent back in Michigan), without protest?
So, we crashed in Albany, New York—having successfully smuggled the dog into the not-so-pet-friendly hotel—and agreed to start fresh early the next morning. What time did we actually resume our travel? A much later 11 a.m., but after a healthy breakfast, no less!
1 comment:
Hi there! I'm a friend of Krista Miranda's. She suggested I check out your blog (it looks vaguely familiar - if you click on mine you'll see what I mean...). I feel your pain on the road trip front. I used to love road trips. Now I spend most of the trip praying that both my kids will sleep or at least not cry. or have to go potty. or get hungry. or force us to listen to the Peter Pan soundtrack five times in a row...
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