5 reasons why a road trip with the family doesn’t completely suck

Every summer, the Durkin Robinson gang usually takes off to see something new. In the past, we’ve visited national parks and majestic scenes like Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and an unusually large ball of twine. We almost always throw in something historical (read: tragic and slightly depressing) like the site of the Oklahoma City bombing, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, and a Wal-Mart nearby the unusually large ball of twine.

Since the boys are now ten, Husband and I thought it might be fun to visit cities. We began this summer with our old haunts in Boston, driving there and back, stopping in Gettysburg on the way up and a family reunion in Scranton on the way home.

The North End, pastries, Freedom Trail, and Fenway Park.

Fun.

Hallowed ground in Pennsylvania where soldiers died.

Tragic.

PBR-soaked ground in Pennsylvania where only two relatives understood why my favorite aunt gave me a bottle of “Running with Scissors” wine.

Slightly depressing.

We all know the reasons why a family vacation can be challenging, especially with two opinionated children in a vehicle without a DVD player. There are endless questions, requests for food and water, not to mention complaints about air conditioning and radio volume levels.

Husband and I hadn’t yet reached Ocala and were ready to throw both of them out of the car.

If you find yourself in the same situation, hang in there. Somewhere around the Georgia border, you and the gang will fall into a groove and can eventually enjoy the benefits of a road trip.

What are those benefits?

1. Expanded vocabulary.

Adding to your family’s word bank is always a good thing. Husband and I have been coining new phrases for years. One night during our honeymoon, when I wanted some action, Husband fell asleep and I ended up counting the “stars” sparkling above my head. How many tiny shining lights were in the ceiling of our honeymoon suite? 287.

Since that fateful night almost fifteen years ago, whenever one of us gets a night of no action, we call it a “2-8-7.” As in, “I shaved and showered and got into bed but you were already sleeping. Thanks for the 2-8-7.”

We’ve created new definitions for words and phrases ever since and that’s why “sparkle heart,”  “base,” and “freezer balls” still have a special place in our lexicon. This teaches children about language, its fluidity, and penicillin’s many uses at the same time.

Fast-forward to this summer’s trip and the trend continues.

There is a chain of Sheetz gas station/convenience marts as you drive north. It wasn’t long before we began replacing “shit” with “Sheetz.”

“Anyone gotta take a Sheetz? Last stop ‘till Savannah.”

“Roll up your window. Fredericksburg smells like Sheetz.”

How’s that for responsible parenting?

It gets worse.

I mean, better.

“That cashier was weird.” Husband got back in the car after stopping by an establishment in North Carolina.

“What did he say?” I asked.

Husband, with his best southern accent, imitated the cashier, “Does your shirt say, Kiss me, I’m Jewwwwwish?”

I looked down at Husband’s green t-shirt that says so in black writing, complete with a drunken Leprechaun and several shamrocks, and smiled.

“At least they can read in this part of South Carolina,” I said. “How did you respond?”

“I said, Sheetz yeah!”

Our kids laughed and so it happened that “Sheetz yeah!” became the preferred response for the rest of the trip.

Waitress: Do you want mayo on that sandwich?

Oldest: Sheetz yeah!

Youngest: My mom wants me to order fresh fruit.

Waitress: We have pickles. That must be fruit ‘cause it ain’t in the meat group. You okay with pickles?

Youngest: Sheetz yeah!

I even got in on it.

Husband: We have to stop at another rest area? Is your bladder the size of a thimble?

Me: Sheetz yeah!

Husband and the boys loved it best of all.

Kids: Daddy, can we have donuts for breakfast again this morning?

Husband: Is Mommy still asleep?

Kids: Sheetz yeah!

Best of all, they won’t get in trouble for cursing. And neither will you.

2. Inside jokes.

Oldest would kill for a vending machine cinnamon roll, Youngest has hair so large it counts as a fifth passenger, I’m a goddamn delight, and Husband’s smelly feet qualify us for handicapped parking – these are all discoveries we’d never have made without being crammed together in the same car for twenty hours.

If you want your kids to grow into responsible adults, make sure you plan vacations that yield enough material with which to blackmail them later. Either that or extortion is the best way to keep kids off drugs or prevent them from marrying a tramp.

3. They get dessert every night. You get to drink.

This is what a vacation is all about. You can worry about calories and tendencies toward alcoholism the rest of the year.

4. Kids fall asleep early.

Man, I miss the days when my boys fell asleep at 7pm. For the last few months, they’ve been staying awake and causing bodily harm during late-night wrestling sessions. For me, this is almost as traumatic as when they stopped requiring two daytime naps and Benadryl before bedtime stories.

While on vacation, if you tire their asses out during the day, you can bask in the glory of sleeping children before the sun completely sets. After walking three miles in 98 degree heat and explaining how you “used to do this all the time,” even the most energetic children will pass out before their head hits the pillow. I know. I tried. It worked.

Don’t worry about sweaty bodies or half-eaten Fenway (vegetarian) franks lodged in their back teeth. Just relax and enjoy the silence.

5. Memories.

…like Sweet Caroline.

I couldn’t sing off-key, almost knock my kid over with Magic Hips, or block the entire park with my hair while sitting at home and staring at the television. And neither can you. So get out there and make some memories.

‘Nuff said?

Sheetz yeah!

(h/t Mike Feeney)

Tags: Running with Scissors