Driving with my husband

Driving long distances with my husband is an effing nightmare.  Brad only stops when you threaten to pee yourself if he doesn't stop, and then, and only then will he take you to the most dilapidated, filthy gas station within fifty miles.  He has a sixth sense as to which exit to take, like he can sense when I am at Nordstoms.  (We had "the talk" after Christmas about how I have too many credit cards and that we needed to shut some of them down, and I was able to negotiate a package that included my debit card, GAP (good at Athleta and that shoe place, now), and Nordy's (which houses my skin care and make up and I am fundamentally against paying CASH for those things, so I can never figure out when he ALWAYS calls me when I am at Nordstrom, because I have taken great steps to conceal my trail with my shiny silver Nordy's credit card.  I even gave up my T.J. Maxx/Marshall's card for Nordy's which proves that I still have "champagne tastes on a beer budget," as my Dad likes to say.


Actually, after "the talk" I had an "episode" where I really needed to buy a bunch of stuff at T.J.Maxx and I could not leave a paper trail so I tried to open another account, but my last one was still "pending" because I owed like fifty cents on it (you know how they do when you try to close an account) and I had already cut up the card and they wouldn't look up my number because you need the actual card, so I was filling out the application, hoping that it would go through, and explaining this to the woman in "Layaway" with exceptionally long finger nails, and she places her spiny hand over mine and goes, "Honey, I have filed bankruptcy THREE times and am on my FOURTH divorce.  I know EXACTLY how you feel."  Okay.  Life lesson.  I got out of there in a hurry.  After my application was rejected, of course, and AFTER I put everything on layaway.


SOOO, back to our story, or rather, nightmare.  Here is the situation in the car, on the way to Tybee Island.  We are forced to listen to the golf tournament, while we all have to pee and are starving and all of our electronic devices have run out of power.  It was the EXACT same scenario on the way home, only we did not break it up and stay at a hotel in between, and the radio was blaring a fuzzy Reds game while all of the children continually asked me the same questions over and over again, fought, or complained of hunger, motion sickness, bladder discomfort, or thirst. To be fair, on the way there, they did not fight, really, because they were too excited and we were all in a good mood so I didn't mind servicing them as much.  But on the way home, EVERYTHING changed.

Brad actually took Eva and I to this nasty ass gas station with the doors on the outside, when we were the only two who had to pee.  I always pee when he stops, because of my prostate, and because you never know when you are going to get to pee again.  I had actually prepared for this very scenario, because I have been on way too many road trips with Brad, and I always come equipped with hand sanitizer and my own toilet paper and wipes when there is no soap or running water or functioning toilet, in whatever "outhouse-like" restroom he stops at.  We both pee in the dark, as the light is burned out, and as we are walking back to the car, a woman who was walking in the restroom after me with her two teenage children (one was even a boy) is suddenly yelling at her husband that the restroom my four-year-old and I just relieved ourselves in, is "unsuitable for humans" and she and her brood are getting back into her old man's SUV with disgusted looks on their faces. 

After hearing all of this, I EXPLODE at Brad and tell him that when my Mother and I drove to Vero Beach with the three girls for Spring Break a year ago "it was so pleasant.  We ATE when we were hungry.  We peed when we needed to. And we sure as shit didn't listen to sports for 12 hours!"  Okay, I didn't say "sure as shit" but more and more I am finding myself on countdown for when my kids get older so I can cuss in front of them, and AT them, for that matter.  If anyone knows that golden age, let me know.  I assume it is the same age when they are allowed to drink Diet Coke.

Anyway, the family seemed just like us, only further along in their family journey, due to their ages, and I notice that the man standing outside of the car cleaning his windshield is dressed EXACTLY like Brad (uniform:  golf visor, prescription sunglasses, flip flops, khaki shorts, and a some t-shirt advertising his favorite sports team).  They also have IDENTICAL smirks on their faces as the cars are parallel to each other, only Eva and I are the poor bastards who were stupid enough to take the bait and his family wasn't.  So here is where Brad will tell me after he reads this to "stop writing about him in a disparaging way" on my blog, and where I say, "stop acting like an J-hole on family vacation car rides and I won't have anything to write about."


Anyway, later when Brad and I were night swimming (AGAIN, I know, it is my passion) he brought up the confrontation at the nasty ass gas station and said he "couldn't believe I compared him to my Mother" and that she was "actually on the winning side".  To be fair, my Mom and I totally got into it on the way home about the Garmin, because she is a non-believer in GPS technology (another post) so comparing the rides and having my experience with my Mom come out on top was apparently a HUGE slap in Brad's face.  HILARIOUS.

My recommendation to you, today, is to always take hand sanitizer, toilet paper, wipes, antibiotics, a toilet seat, a lantern, and some sort of mood altering drug if you go on a long car trip with my husband, or maybe yours, too, if you are in the same boat as me because based on my case study at the gas station, all middle aged fathers who confine their children and wife to their vehicle for long periods of time must take some sort of seminar first, on how to make the trip as miserable as possible for the passengers in your car.  PEACE OUT.


The raw TRUTH is, though, is that I would get back in that car in a heartbeat.  It was the best vacation I have ever had, and I wanna go back so badly it hurts.


Pic above is of our night in Savannah.  Post to follow.  Great night.