The Path to Happiness


Who doesn’t love travel and the holidays?  The two really should be arch enemies, as they don’t go as well together as I would like.  We traveled to Michigan from Virginia for Thanksgiving and the time with our families is almost enough to make the 10 hours in the car with two small children seem pleasant, ALMOST, but not quite.  I will say that my kids are pretty darn good in the car, they have been able to entertain themselves whenever the electronic wonderments have ceased to entertain them.  However it is still 10 hours in a confined area, it’s kind of like being in a jail on wheels.

 

I try to think of the travel as an adventure, to me it makes it seem more exciting.  The first hour is usually pretty fun and exciting; we point out animals and scenery and talk about all the fun we are going to have.  The second hour we start getting drilled with how many more miles and how many exact minutes to our arrival.  The third hour we start realizing we need to go to the bathroom and we all start getting fidgety.  From there it is all downhill, until the final 10 minutes of the trip when we know we can escape from the rolling jail and each other.

 

We are on a toll roads for 80% of our trip and they are easy to travel but boring as shit.  Try playing those car games that are supposed to make time go by faster on a toll road.  Let’s look for license plates from different states….”Let’s see there’s Pennsylvania and Pennsylvania and Pennsylvania, oh look over there at that different one, oh it’s a handicapped Pennsylvania!”   The ABC spotting game is no better because there are only so many ways to say tree and car using the 26 letters of the alphabet.  It’s sad when my kids get all excited because they can use R for roadkill.

 

I just about forgot to mention that we had another traveler with us.  My good friend, Menstrual Cycle, decided to go with us at the last minute.  You probably know her; she’s a real bitch, always showing up uninvited and staying WAY too long.  It is always great to travel with her, expecially as I am shoving my two kids into the handicapped stall with me.  My kids never get tired or asking (actually yelling) the questions, “Is that blood?  Is it your mommy time again?  Do you tell daddy you bleed like that?”  It’s nice to come out of the stall and see everyone staring at me like I am some freak that wants to take her kids to the bathroom with her.

 

While in Michigan we decided to visit the world’s largest Christmas store in Frankenmuth.  There’s another 3 hours on the road there and back.  Nothing says Christmas Cheer like people dressed up like Germans with mullets and feather bangs.  They have an ornament for just about everything you can think of, most of them with a high degree of cheesiness, but isn’t that why we go there?  Wow, you can. make an ornament out of a cars headlight and look over there at the hairy German man that jiggles, oops that one is supposed to be a female but who can tell with all that hair?

 

We did get to visit family and friends and isn’t that what the holidays are all about?  I have to be honest, I am 40 years old and I still don’t know what the holidays are “really” all about, so I just go with the flow and follow the path of least resistance, even when that path is 550 miles one way in a rolling cell.  After all when the kids are happy, mommy’s happy and daddy’s not getting bitched at and we all live happily ever after!

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