8 hours- that is the limit that I can remain contained within a 4-wheel vehicle.
It is a self-imposed limit but it is a limit, a limit I uphold rigidly as if it was being enforced by an external powerful and wise authority. And for the first time in 5 years, I am breaking this rule and exceeding the limit since I have an incredibly important and necessary 10-hour drive to make to Virginia.
At this point in this necessary and unwonted journey, we’re shifting into the final stretch. It is hour number 7 and everyone is tired and cranky by now and beyond ready for the trip to end. Although I must admit, we really shouldn’t be this tired or this worn out already! After all, we did stop in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for the night. During the stopover, we visited the Hollywood Wax Museum too, and had a great time posing and dancing with our favorite celebrities and musical icons. The wax museum was really close, just across the street actually, from the hotel where we spent the night. The room was clean as well as comfortable and the following morning we enjoyed a complimentary breakfast that tasted really good with hot items like sausages that actually tasted like real sausages! After a fun stop at the wax museum, a good night’s sleep, and the hot breakfast, we then hit the road and continued on the second leg of our 10-hour trip to Virginia.
Despite the much-needed break, the hours of sitting in the cramped car spread over two days were accumulating, and the stiffness in our bodies was growing by the minutes which was worsened by the temperature which was steadily decreasing as we headed further north to Virginia. Despite the physical and mental discomfort, the trip was going rather smoothly, and ever since we crossed the Virginia border, the chants of “Are we there yet?” and the persistent question of “How much longer?” had died down. My husband London and I were free to focus on the unfamiliar up-and-down pattern of the hilly highways of Virginia as we admired the bright purple of the Redbuds and the soft pink of the Dagwood trees that dotted the landscape until… a voice shouted out from the backseat instantly breaking the serene silence.
“Hey, why’d you kick your cup?”, my son shouted in a confused voice.
“It was an accident!” my daughter screeched back without a moment’s hesitation.
“Well, now you broke it!” my son loudly stated, ending his statement with a frustrated sigh and a slap to the seat.
Unlike the beginning of the exchange, my daughter took her time with her rebuttal and after a few more seconds, it dawned on me that there wasn’t a rebuttal. That, no doubt, was strange; my daughter always has a rebuttal. But silence is silence, right?! Why would I revive that conversation and disturb the peace, especially with 3 hours still left to drive?! I’d have to be an idiot to do that! Or…perhaps just an experienced parent who understands things aren’t always what they seem.
So against my natural inclination to just enjoy the peaceful moments, I turned around. I witnessed my daughter quietly watching a show on her tablet as her styrofoam cup seated beside her, picked up from the fast food restaurant just a few exits back, oozed brown liquid from its sides.
In the few seconds, I had to observe the scene before reacting to the the mess that was worsening by the second, questions flew rapidly through my mind. How do you kick a cup that’s sitting in your cup holder? And how can you calmly just sit there like nothing is happening while your cup is flowing like an active volcano?! It was mere moments but questioning time (and the time to just be bewildered by what had transpired) was over and I thrust my arm into the backseat to grab the cup that looked like it had been cut three inches below the rim by a small but effective jigsaw and was oozing brown, sugary root beer down the front and side of the back seat.
While retrieving the cracked cup, cold sugary root beer had splattered from the back seat all the way to the front seat and was now even splattering all over me. My husband, now visually aware of the disaster, rattled off ideas intent on stopping the flow of root beer that was now overtaking the front seat. I failed to grasp any of the ideas. Honestly, in the confusion, I don’t think I made out a single word he said. Instinctively, my hands went to playing Tetris, as I moved the cup on its side and in every angle I could imagine as I tried to stop the flow of root beer onto me and the cloth seats in the car. The mess, however, was still continuing and therefore still growing. Desperate and not having a lot of options on hand being seated in the front seat of a car moving down the highway, I rolled the window down. I lunged the cup outside, expecting the liquid to maybe ricochet against my hand as it made its way onto the ground outside. However, nearly the opposite happened. The bumps along the highway along with the wind and the speed of the car sent the sticky root beer in all directions except for down it seemed. The soda pop shot back into my face and the shrieks from the back seat confirmed it was also striking my son (who was seated directly behind me) in the face as well. Apparently, the erratic flow of the root beer caused the neurons in my brain to lapse because I then unintelligently yet instinctively reached for the door handle of the car- a car, need I remind you, that was moving at an excess of 60 miles per hour along a hilly highway. Thankfully, the door barely budged but the slight movement was enough for my husband to make the hasty and necessary decision to pull over.
I immediately hopped out of the car, extended my arms out as far as I could, and sprung open the lid to allow the rest of the root beer to escape. The breeze from the passing cars still steadily making progress toward their destination, the crisp cold Northern winter air, and the wetness from the compromised styrofoam cup caused chills to run through my body. Standing on the side of that littered highway, I felt cold, sticky, and drained. Somehow, surprisingly, I felt energized at the same time. Something had just taken place that looked like a scene from one of those stereotypical comical family road-trip movies. And since the root beer lava flow threat was over, I now had time to grasp all that happened in the last few minutes… and I laughed. I laughed so hard! I laughed so hard it felt like some of the fatigue and stiffness I felt earlier exited my legs and back with every chuckle.
After pulling towels and wet wipes from the trunk and helping my husband clean up as much of the mess that we could, we hopped back in the car with a little more energy to tackle the remaining three hours of the drive. And we had a new conversation piece too to occupy us for the rest of the haul as all three of us asked the question we had been dying to ask for the past few minutes to my daughter.
“How do you kick a cup that’s sitting beside you inside of a cup holder?”
Three hours later, at the conclusion of the drive, we still hadn’t received an answer.
Happy Travels!
Nat
Photo Attribution:
Photo by Henry Deng on Unsplash