Used to be, in the good old days, that SB (small boy) would fall asleep about 15 minutes into a long car ride. Then I was left in peace to listen to my music, glare at bad drivers, snack, and enjoy the peace and quiet until we got to where we were going.
Not any more. Here’s how the two-hour drive up to Los Angeles went with “the Boy Who NEVER Stopped Talking”:
Mama, is that the blimp? Can we ride in it? Why is it blue? Does it go fast? Wish I had a blimp. Can we get one? Why not? No it’s NOT too big to fit in our garage!!
Mama, where’s the train? Why is there a train track? Is it Thomas? Percy? Can it come with us? Who’s in it?
Mama, why is the dog asleep? Can I wake her up? I have my fingers in her ears! No, I don’t want to leave the dog alone! Why did she move so far away from me? No I am NOT bugging her!
I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. I want a snack. I dropped my snack and now the dog’s eating it. No, I’m not tired. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want my blanket! Stop singing mama! (I tried…)
Are all these people going to Grammy’s house? Where are they going? Where’s the blue car going? The green car? Why is that truck red? What’s in it? Is that a bridge?
At this point I figured I’d turn on the music and try to drown out the chatter. Turns out the Boy Who Never Stopped Talking was also “the World’s Bossiest Backseat Driver”.
MAMA THAT MUSIC IS MAKING TOO MUCH NOISE TURN IT OFF RIGHT NOW!!!
For someone who can’t pull up his underwear without it looking like a thong, he’s pretty bossy. Plus it was my favorite Rolling Stones Rarities CD. Who knew two year olds don’t like Keith Richards? Go figure.
Then we hit traffic up by the airport. Oh, yay.
Mama, go faster. Why not? Will the policeman come and yell at you? What’s the policemen’s name? Why are there so many cars? GO AWAY CARS! Mama, I want to get out now. Can I come sit up front? I am too big enough. Yes I am!
This was followed by about 20 minutes of kicking the seat. But at that point I didn’t care anymore. I was too busy banging my head into the steering wheel.