Road Trip

Road trip! Sights! Sounds! Snacks! Years ago, a road trip meant real Coke, Cheetos, long talks, and lots of good music. Things have changed.

We still had real Coke and Cheetos, but conversation on an 8 hour road trip with a potty training three-year old isn't exactly thought provoking:

"Don't touch anything!" "Why are you touching the trash can? I said 'don't touch anything!'"

"Stand tall!" "Do NOT put your peep on the edge of the toilet." "Lift it up, lift it up!!!"

"Do NOT touch anything. I mean it."

I comfort myself with thoughts that little boys have been putting their man parts on the edge of public toilets for a hundred years--and have survived. Their mothers on the other hand give praise for Purell.

It seemed like a good idea to load The Wiggles on my iPod. It does not seem like such a good idea now.

I have a new appreciation for exactly how uncomfortable a car seat is for a skinny toddler bottom. After 15 of 16 hours, he woke up sobbing, "My boom boom hurts! Can you stop the car and put cream on it?!"

Poor guy.

I have never been so grateful to see a Ponca City exit sign. Poppie's house! Green grass! A playhouse! Soft toilet paper!

So, we made an unscheduled stop. 24 hours at Poppie's house. Hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, and pop. Bubbles in the backyard, and carpet that little boom booms can sit on without mommy's "We do NOT put our bare bottoms on hotel carpet!" Home away from home.

On an entirely different note, we went to a lovely wedding for an even lovelier couple. Young and in love, they make me hope for the same kind of day for my little boy someday too. (perhaps with the same charming commentary from the toddler gallery, "What they doin'? 'Dey gettin' married?")