I believe that since I didn’t finish telling you about the rest of the weekend that I led y’all to believe that I enjoyed a weekend of leisure, sipping martinis and examining my eyebrows in a magnifying mirror, just like I did before Caroline was born.
That was not the case.
My Nanny’s 90th birthday was on July 4th, but the family decided to wait until this past weekend to throw her a party because we were afraid a lot of her friends would be out of town during a holiday weekend. Everyone knows there’s nothing senior citizens like more than to party like rockstars in celebration of America’s independence.
So, on Saturday, my sister, Amy, and her daughter, Sarah, loaded up in the car with me and we headed to Beaumont via Houston where we stopped and picked up Caroline.
The whole flight thing really worked out because Houston is on the way from San Antonio to Beaumont, so Caroline missed the first three hours of a five hour road trip. In other words, it helped my campaign for sanity.
If you have never had the chance to drive down I-10 from San Antonio to Houston, then you are truly missing out on what would be a clear winner in the MOST TEDIOUS DRIVE EVER contest. There are approximately five Dairy Queens between here and Houston, which helps somewhat, but is still like a Care Bear band-aid on a massive wound.
Anyway, I was rejoicing in my initial child-free driving status and didn’t really think too much about the fact that I would still be in the car with my three-year-old niece. We packed up the car and headed out, looking like something out of “The Grapes Of Wrath”. Well, except the Joad family probably didn’t have portable DVD player.
About two miles into the journey, Sarah gives me a big “HEEEEYYYYYY!!!” from the backseat. It was very reminiscent of an Arthur Fonzarelli salutation, and so I was all like “HEEEEYYYY Girlfriend, what’s goin’ on back there?”
But she just kept saying “HEEEEYYYYY!!”
At which point Amy informed me that she actually wasn’t saying “HEEEYYYY!” but rather was saying “HEAAADDDD!!!!”, which in toddler-speak translates to “I do not like you wearing those sunglasses on your face and would rather that you’d please put them on your head.”
Fortunately, this request was directed to Amy and not to me. I was able to keep my sunglasses over my eyes where God and Ray-Ban intended.
However, Amy placed her glasses on her head because we were only four minutes into an arduous journey and we both operate under the child-rearing principle of WHENEVER POSSIBLE, DON’T ANGER IT.
With the sunglass crisis averted, we drove happily along for the next eight minutes until I heard a sweet little voice from the backseat say “tato head?”.
Beg your pardon?
“Tato head?”
“TATO HEAD?”
I glance over at my sister who is staring at the floorboard and whispers out of the side of her mouth, “I’m just going to ignore her.”
“TATO HEAD?!”
“TATO HEAD?!!” (the sweet voice has turned into a little more of a growl)
I try to stay out of domestic disputes, but I look at my sister again. She whispers, “She wants her Mr. Potato Head. She’s trying to make it part of our traveling entourage, but every time a body part falls out she throws a fit.”
“TATO HEAD!!!!!”
“TATO HEAD!!!!!!”
Even three days later, I can still hear the voices in my head.
Then “TATO HEAD!!!” turns into “SAD! SAD! SAD!”
“SAD! SAD! SAD!”
Who can resist “SAD! SAD! SAD!” from a little girl with pigtails?
Not these two suckers.
Amy hands over the Mr. Potato Head, who promptly loses a limb. More sadness ensues.
I think it’s time to take some Super Glue to Mr. Potato Head and his various appendages.
The rest of the trip was actually pretty calm and uneventful. There was one point that Sarah requested that I place my sunglasses on my head, but I followed my sister’s advice and acted like I didn’t hear what she said.
It actually worked.
We finally arrived at Whataburger to pick up Caroline, relieved to have three hours of our trip behind us.
I buckled Caroline into her carseat, we pulled onto the highway and drove along for about two minutes before she asked, “How much longer until we get there? I’m tired of being in the car.”
Oh, so now she’s a jetsetter.