You know why Good Enough Mother is not a big fan of reality television? Because my whole life is a reality show. Similar to The Truman Show, only cameras are not there to capture every waking moment of madness.
So after our first day of Road Trippin we pulled into Rocky Mount, NC, the halfway point between NY and SC, to rest for the night. Cool place, dog friendly hotel with a diner in the parking. Good thing because the kids were starving.
I got us all checked in then ran over to the diner to get what was shaping up to be more of a buffet than a late night snack. It was 9:23. The diner closed at 9 pm. WHAT??
I live in NY where diners are open 24 and 7. Yes, even on Christmas day at two in the morning you can get yourself a meatloaf platter if you so desire. New York yes. Rocky Mount, no.
I ultimately found a BBQ joint which was better anyway because they had a bar and I needed a glass of wine. Yes it was swill, but it was over my palate and down my gullet so fast I really didn’t notice.
Needless to say I solidified my place in mommy hero lore when I walked in carrying a side of ribs, chicken fingers, four rolls, two baked potatoes, 17 butter pats, two containers of sour cream and enough ketchup to plug a California sinkhole.
It was 10 pm. My plan was to get us all in the bed early so we could get on the road early and get to Charleston by midday. That meant, a seven am check out. Guess what time we got up? 10:15am. So much for the early departure.
“Breakfast” was roast beef and chicken sandwiches from an Arby’s we found in the parking lot of a gas station. That’s right folks, we are high classin’ it all the way to South Carolina.
We reached the city limits by five, just in time for rush hour. No matter – I would let the traffic die down while I shopped for provisions for the week. This is where it gets good.
I found a grassy area near a parking lot adjacent to Target. So I left the kids with Olivia on the leash and headed over to get the stuff we needed. The trouble started when I tried to make my way back.
Yes, I saw the paint on the pavement. Yes, it was clear to me what it meant; No carts beyond this point.
But my car was over THERE!
I adopted a Lindsay Lohan attitude, thinking the rules were for other people and off I went into the street. So far so good. Until, in the middle of traffic, all four wheels locked up! Sweltering heat, drivers staring at me and I can’t get the damn thing to move. I tip it back and forth until I get it to the side of the road where I left it. Picture me, sprinting toward the car, looking backward every so often to make sure no one makes off with my 237 dollars worth of crap that’s stuck on the side of the road.
“OPEN THE DOOR, OPEN THE DOOR, OPEN THE DOOR!” I scream at the kids who by now have gotten the dog back in the car and sealed tighter than a Hefty bag. “We gotta get over there and get the stuff in the car!” As I drove, I breathlessly explained what happened, which brought sidesplitting laughter to all inside. Except me. And the dog.
But the craziest part was that the wheels were STILL locked! I had to rock the stupid thing back and forth until it was close enough to my car to unload. Sheesh
Sweating, cursing under my breath with a heat headache to boot, we headed to the house. Even Olivia was ready to get out of the car.
All is well that ends well and we got here just after 7. Of course, we wanted to be here much earlier but it dawned on me, that through it all, the destination is actually the journey and I wouldn’t give up any of it.
Well, except for the cart episode.
Please tell me I am not alone in my vacation foibles. Have you ever experienced anything like that?