Road Tripping

 Every summer of my life my family has hit the road for a vacation. We have gone east then we have gone west but rarely ever north and never south. (We live in Texas, the only place south is Mexico and we are too chicken to drive in Mexico).   

 We have been doing this my whole life, so you would think by now we would have ironed out all the kinks associated with long distance car travel.
 Not so much.
 Each trip has it’s own unique set of issue that throw a wrench into our well laid plans.
 We have experienced every possible problem to connected to road tripping. Faulty car batteries,  flat tires, crappy hotel rooms, food poisoning, leaky ice chest, sick kids, sick dogs, you name it, we have been through it. In my family we suck it all up until we arrive at our destination.
  Sometime our problems start before we ever hit the road.
  There was one year Mom had my niece, father and I plant annuals in her garden before getting on the road. We dug holes for two hours in 90 degree heat and 90% humidity before getting into the car for a 9 hour trip to Florida.
 I was furious at my mother for going to Lowe’s before a trip and buying so many plants. Her reply to my anger was “they were on sale and if they are not planted they would die and money would be wasted.”
 My niece and I swore we would never go on another trip with her if we had to do that again.
 Three weeks later we were back in the garden sweating it out, planting annuals before a 18 hour road trip to Colorado.
 Once we all get on the road things settle down into a calm routine.
 Until someone has to pee.
 Growing up my father trained my sisters and I to "hold it" for hours. Dad would make the ten hour trip from Houston, Texas to Greenville, Alabama with only one stop.
 “The more we stop, the longer the trip will take" was my dad’s mantra.
 So my sisters and I learned to avoid drinks on long trips. (Sure we were dehydrated when we got to Grandma’s but hey, we cut 30 minutes off the trip by only stopping once!)
Well, now I’m the driver and Dad is in the backseat and let me tell you, revenge is sweet.
 “Uh, Sal can we stop soon? I need to use the bathroom” says dad.
 “Sure,” I say as I breeze past the last exit with a service station. “we will stop on the other side of this bridge.”
 The bridge I am talking about crosses the Atchafalaya swamp in Louisiana. This is one of longest bridges in the United States. It is a  20 mile stretch of nothing but trees, water and alligators, plus the speed limit is 55. It takes a minimum of 30 minutes to cross provided there are no accidents, slow drivers or state troopers on the road.
 Dad knows this bridge. He has been taking the same route for 50 years. He knows how long it  will take to cross,  He also knows how often he stopped when I was growing up. He says nothing to my announcement. He just exhales, closes his Sprite and tries to get comfortable.
 Oh yeah, revenge is so, so sweet.
 My nephew has a disgusting remedy to the stop-the-car-the-kids-have-to-pee problem of road trips. His answer...the pee jar.
 Yup, my nephew packs an empty pickle jar inside his vehicle for those inconvenient times his young children have to go. His son thinks it is fun, his daughter has a different opinion.
 Where did he get this idea you ask? From my family of course!
 When my preschool aged nephew was traveling with us and had to go while we were driving Dad would say “use the pee jar.” (Now please understand, those trips were in the 1980‘s and car-seat and seat-belt usage were suggested, not mandatory.)  So my nephew would pop out of his seat, stand up aim and fire. His mother would then close the jar, tuck it away and re-belt him in his seat. (I was a teenager back then then so I was left gagging from the smell and deaf from having my Walkman turned all the way up to drown out the sound.)
 The pee jar was good enough for my nephew back then, so it is good enough for his kids now. However, he does pull off to the side of the road for his kids to use the jar. Their total break time rivals a Nascar pit stop during the Daytona 500.
 Speaking of race cars...
 Going the speed limit on road trips with my family doesn’t happen. We are a lead footed crew on the interstate and we have the traffic violations to prove it. (My brother-in-law has a special mount on his dashbord for radar and laser detectors.) You think the hefty fines would have caused us to ease off the accelerator by now. Nope, we just know where the speed traps are.
 Why do we go so fast?
  Because the real adventures begin when we arrive at our destination and we don’t like to wait... and people need to use the bathroom.


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