There is nothing like writing comedy sketches to remind a person of the mishaps of life. And considering the number of mishaps in my life, I could mine my life for many a sketch and still have plenty left over. But a comment from my Twitter and Blogging friend, Jeffe Kennedy ( she’s the lovely writer of Love, Power & Fairytale Endings over on my blog roll) got me to thinking of just how many mishaps I’ve had whilst being in a moving vehicle. Really, this is scary folks.
Warning: the following post reflects two phenomena – I just put 1,333 miles on my mom-van and I am the recipient of a double dose of the crazy gene. So, read at your own risk – the following will be filled with judging folks based on my quirky little rules for livin’.
You may be wondering just how many times I went to the grocery store to rack up that kind of mileage. Never fear, it is spring break for my kiddos and we took them on a whirlwind tour of San Francisco and the Avenue of the Giants. The plan was for a rollicking good time. The reality was lots of bickering and time buckled into car seats. Oh, and the one vomiting session in said car seat, but whatever.
You also may be wondering just how crazy I am. Lots. But don’t worry, I keep the bouts of solo-conversations to a minimum. Unless I’m driving great distances at which time I like to have one-sided conversations regarding the driving habits of the folks around me. Husband thinks it’s hysterical. Which I typically am after a few miles of driving, so it all works out.
I love reading bumper stickers – well, the funny ones that is. There is nothing like driving to bring out the need for humor in a person’s life. Especially if you’re a mom, because chances are you are listening to something the kids want to hear, rather than something a sane adult would enjoy. (Sounds of “Baby Beluga” begin to run through my mind, all these years later.) Which reminds me of that bumper sticker that started showing up in the early 80s: “Insanity is heredity, you get it from your kids.”
Ya think? Well, I have been talking to myself, and experiencing fanciful thoughts, and moments of delusion. So, maybe that bumper sticker is onto something.
Of course, I was talking to only myself because my kids were obviously ignoring everything I was saying. And I was secretly fantasizing about just continuing to drive after dropping everybody off at their respective schools. (If only you could drive to the Bahamas from my neck of the woods.) And it must have been a delusional moment when I thought making sticker charts was going to change anybody’s behavior but mine.
Parenting is one happy moment after another. Just ask any driver of a minivan with Hello Kitty stickers on the windows.