O.K., well really this post has nothing to do with trains but the story does involve a plane, an automobile, a well meaning stewardess, two hyper kids, a frazzled mom, 4 gas stations and at least six restrooms.
Now you are really curious aren't you? Here's what happened. K & K were probably around 12 and 10 years old, old enough to be let on an airplane unaccompanied by an adult. After the divorce their dad moved to Florida so when they got old enough once in a while we would arrange a trip where they could take a direct flight, in this case one from Detroit to Tampa and back so they could visit their dad.
On this particular occasion, they had spent a week in Florida. I can't remember the exact circumstances leading to this event (it may have involved malfunctioning alarm clocks or such) but for some reason, they missed their scheduled flight from Tampa back to Detroit.
Their dad had to get to work and so after speaking with the airlines customer service rep he was able to put them on stand-by for the next flight out. I usually try to stay neutral on these subjects but in this case I have to say, I question the judgement to leave a 12 and 10 year in an airport on stand-by. That said, I'll get back to the story. I think that my ex called me to inform me of what was going on since I guess I needed to know that I didn't need to be in Detroit at the original estimated time of arrival.
This was in the day before cell phones. Well, I'm sure they existed but hardly anyone had them in that era. Needless to say, my kids didn't have one so I was scrambling to find a way to communicate with them to make sure they were O.K. and to try and find out if/when and what flight they would be on.
I thought to call my parents who live about an hour away from the Tampa airport. I miraculously happened to catch my dad who even more miraculously coincidentally was on his way to the airport because he had to pick up my mom from some trip she had been on. Anyway somehow or another I was able to link my dad up with K & K and I felt some relief that an adult would be with them while they were waiting. I mean, what were they supposed to do if there had been no room on that stand-by flight??
But luck was on their side and they made the flight. I rescheduled my trip to meet their arrival at the Detroit airport. We lived in Grand Rapids so to get to the Detroit airport is about a 2.5 hour drive in good weather.
I was very relieved when the plane landed on time and K & K appeared rushing out into the concourse. They spotted me and ran towards me at top speed. "Wow," I thought. "They must be really happy/excited to see me." But they ran right past me waving and shouting "Hi, mom" as they made a bee line to the nearest restrooms. After what seemed like eternity they each emerged from the respective restroom.
While we were waiting for their luggage they once again took off for a restroom pit stop. No sooner than we were on the highway heading home when they began to complain that they needed to go to the bathroom again.
About that time I also realized that they were bouncing off the car walls, they were super hyper, talking loud, picking at each other and behaving as obnoxious as ever in the general sense of the word.
Then the story spilled out. Because of being on stand-by they had gotten to sit in first class on the 2.5 hr flight. The well intentioned stewardess brought them snacks and then whatever they wanted to drink the entire flight. It sounded like they just had her keep bringing them refill after refill of coke the entire flight!!
Needless to say, the 2.5 hour drive back to Grand Rapids turned into about a 3 hours trip as I had to stop at a gas station about every half hour so that they could use the restroom. And each time we stopped I made them run around the gas station building 3 or 4 times to try to get them to expend all of that pent up chemically induced energy!!
But it didn't work. This story basically ends where it began with a still very frazzled mother and two still very hyper children!
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Back seat discipline
When K&K were about 4 and 6 years old we were living in a fairly rural location in mid-Michigan. The setting was very pretty, on a lake, but boy it was really inconvenient. There was a burg about 7 miles away but the closest real town was about 20 miles away.
Due to that fact, running errands of any substance required a lot of forethought. First you had to time it just right leaving after lunch so the bellies were full but arriving back home in time to throw something in the oven quick for dinner. Otherwise you spent an arm and a leg at fast food places. You lined up as many errands as possible to make sure you were using your gas and time as efficiently as you could.
One day I think I had tried to fit in just one too many stops and both kids had just gotten darn right ornery. In general they were good travelers but I must have pushed them just a little beyond their capacity that day. They started bickering with each other and whining and basically being little brats and would not let up. My usual tactics to get them to quit were not working. I was fed up. Hey, they weren't the only ones sick of being in the car and hungry to boot. I was too. After several times reprimanding them and reminding them of the good behavior I expected, the bickering continued. That's when I lost it with them.
I started raising my voice angrily, not quite yelling , but almost. They continued on. They were both in booster seats buckled in the back. Keeping my eye on the dirt road that I was on, I stuck my hand in between the front seats, reaching back and started to swat at their legs. I smacked one of them, but they got wise and dodged my groping hand. I was swatting uncontrollably. They started giggling at my vain attempts. Oooh boy, that really raised my ire. My voice continued to raise as I hurdled empty threats at them. By this time, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was yelling. The louder I yelled, the madder I got and the more I swatted and the harder my foot was pressing on the accelerator.
Just then in a quick glance to the rear view mirror I spotted it . . .flashing lights . . .yes, my angry foot had us going 55 mph in a 40 mph zone. In retrospect it would have been much more cost effective to have just given in for once and stopped at Micky Ds.
Due to that fact, running errands of any substance required a lot of forethought. First you had to time it just right leaving after lunch so the bellies were full but arriving back home in time to throw something in the oven quick for dinner. Otherwise you spent an arm and a leg at fast food places. You lined up as many errands as possible to make sure you were using your gas and time as efficiently as you could.
One day I think I had tried to fit in just one too many stops and both kids had just gotten darn right ornery. In general they were good travelers but I must have pushed them just a little beyond their capacity that day. They started bickering with each other and whining and basically being little brats and would not let up. My usual tactics to get them to quit were not working. I was fed up. Hey, they weren't the only ones sick of being in the car and hungry to boot. I was too. After several times reprimanding them and reminding them of the good behavior I expected, the bickering continued. That's when I lost it with them.
I started raising my voice angrily, not quite yelling , but almost. They continued on. They were both in booster seats buckled in the back. Keeping my eye on the dirt road that I was on, I stuck my hand in between the front seats, reaching back and started to swat at their legs. I smacked one of them, but they got wise and dodged my groping hand. I was swatting uncontrollably. They started giggling at my vain attempts. Oooh boy, that really raised my ire. My voice continued to raise as I hurdled empty threats at them. By this time, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was yelling. The louder I yelled, the madder I got and the more I swatted and the harder my foot was pressing on the accelerator.
Just then in a quick glance to the rear view mirror I spotted it . . .flashing lights . . .yes, my angry foot had us going 55 mph in a 40 mph zone. In retrospect it would have been much more cost effective to have just given in for once and stopped at Micky Ds.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
A bunny, a bag and a barrel
A few years ago when my son was trying out a semester at Northern Michigan University up in Marquette, we decided to take a trip up to see him. It is about an 8 hour drive from Grand Rapids if you go the speed limit. It takes about 4 hours to get to the Mackinaw Bridge and then about 4 more hours on two lane highways from that point to get to Marquette.
We left right after work on a Friday night. My husband drove the first 4 hours and then just over the bridge turned the driving over to me. It was black as pitch up there. The cities, or should I say towns, are few and far between so there are no city lights to speak of. We were enveloped in darkness with only my headlights cutting a path into the future. An occasional car would pass going in the other direction.
I'll be the first to admit that my depth perception has never ever been good which is a handicap when driving. My night vision is not good either and only has gotten worse as I've gotten older. So all of these physical limitations sort of exacerbated the difficulties I was having driving that not. Not to mention I was pretty tired from already having put in a long day at work.
Anyway, it was probably about midnight. I was driving around 60 miles an hour when all of a sudden, directly in front of me, a bunny was staring at me. It was up on it's hind quarters and you could tell by the stare that it was mesmerized by my car head lights. I have no idea how far away it was because as I've mentioned, my depth perception really sucks.
I had a choice to make. I could swerve to the left and hope the bunny didn't hop in that direction too. But I risked losing control of the vehicle if I did that since I was going pretty fast. Or I even risked hitting an on-coming vehicle if one suddenly appeared over the hill. The other choice I thought of in that split second was to just continue forward and pray that the bunny run out of my way in either direction. I chose the second option, held my breath and continued straight forward. I stared at the bunny. The bunny stared at me. A loud thump*/splat sound by the bunny/car impact and a loud scream by me pierced the silence of the night and scared all of my passengers awake.
I was heart sick to have killed an innocent animal but worse than that this incident really shook me up. Only about a year before my mom and dad were in a horrible car crash when they were hit head on by a drunk driver. My dad died on impact. My mom survived but the accident has taken years of vitality aware from her. Anyway, the correlation here is that the second I hit that bunny rabbit an instantaneous vision appeared in my mind of what it must have been like to be my dad driving along in his car with the headlights of a drunk driver aimed straight at you. The accident scene showed how far to the right my dad tried to swerve to avoid being hit and without going down into the ditch to maintain control of the vehicle. If it weren't for this I'm sure my mom would have been killed too but because of dad's quick thinking or instinctive driving reactions, it was the drivers side of the vehicle that bore the brunt of the impact.
It was like I was the drunk driver and the bunny was my dad. I know. How stupid. Right? But the visual image was so powerful in that moment that I was really shook up. Plus I gave my passengers a heart attack.
I still had about 2 hours of driving left from that point. An uneventful hour passed. I was fighting sleep to stay alert at the wheel, it was probably about 1:00 a.m. now. The bunny incident had left me so skittish that my nerves were on edge. Just then, out of nowhere a black figure appeared in front of my head lights. My heart was pounding. This time I had no time to think of options. Just as I started to instinctively tap the brakes I hit the dark object it!!! Straight on!!! The garbage bag undulated and hovered before me and then was swept away in a whirlwind; caught between the gentle night breeze and the forceful airflow caused by my car. My heart skipped a few more beats. The passengers all woke with a start. They were quickly losing faith in my driving skills. Geez but the phsycological damage that darn garbage bag caused!
We were almost there, about 15 minutes and we would have finally arrived to our desination city of Marquette. It was almost 2:00 a.m. and I was going about 40 mph. All of a sudden I found myself in a construction zone. Once again I was caught off guard due to the circumstances; it was dark, it was late, I was tired, I have no depth perception and I did not anticpate the unexpected construction barrels. The car knicked one of the barrels. I jerked the steering wheel to the right to avoid hitting any more. My heart skipped another few beats, the barrel rolled out of sight and the passengers awoke with a jolt. Good thing we were almost there!
I never new "B" objects were so dangerous.
*Gives a new meaning to the name of Thumper
We left right after work on a Friday night. My husband drove the first 4 hours and then just over the bridge turned the driving over to me. It was black as pitch up there. The cities, or should I say towns, are few and far between so there are no city lights to speak of. We were enveloped in darkness with only my headlights cutting a path into the future. An occasional car would pass going in the other direction.
I'll be the first to admit that my depth perception has never ever been good which is a handicap when driving. My night vision is not good either and only has gotten worse as I've gotten older. So all of these physical limitations sort of exacerbated the difficulties I was having driving that not. Not to mention I was pretty tired from already having put in a long day at work.
Anyway, it was probably about midnight. I was driving around 60 miles an hour when all of a sudden, directly in front of me, a bunny was staring at me. It was up on it's hind quarters and you could tell by the stare that it was mesmerized by my car head lights. I have no idea how far away it was because as I've mentioned, my depth perception really sucks.
I had a choice to make. I could swerve to the left and hope the bunny didn't hop in that direction too. But I risked losing control of the vehicle if I did that since I was going pretty fast. Or I even risked hitting an on-coming vehicle if one suddenly appeared over the hill. The other choice I thought of in that split second was to just continue forward and pray that the bunny run out of my way in either direction. I chose the second option, held my breath and continued straight forward. I stared at the bunny. The bunny stared at me. A loud thump*/splat sound by the bunny/car impact and a loud scream by me pierced the silence of the night and scared all of my passengers awake.
I was heart sick to have killed an innocent animal but worse than that this incident really shook me up. Only about a year before my mom and dad were in a horrible car crash when they were hit head on by a drunk driver. My dad died on impact. My mom survived but the accident has taken years of vitality aware from her. Anyway, the correlation here is that the second I hit that bunny rabbit an instantaneous vision appeared in my mind of what it must have been like to be my dad driving along in his car with the headlights of a drunk driver aimed straight at you. The accident scene showed how far to the right my dad tried to swerve to avoid being hit and without going down into the ditch to maintain control of the vehicle. If it weren't for this I'm sure my mom would have been killed too but because of dad's quick thinking or instinctive driving reactions, it was the drivers side of the vehicle that bore the brunt of the impact.
It was like I was the drunk driver and the bunny was my dad. I know. How stupid. Right? But the visual image was so powerful in that moment that I was really shook up. Plus I gave my passengers a heart attack.
I still had about 2 hours of driving left from that point. An uneventful hour passed. I was fighting sleep to stay alert at the wheel, it was probably about 1:00 a.m. now. The bunny incident had left me so skittish that my nerves were on edge. Just then, out of nowhere a black figure appeared in front of my head lights. My heart was pounding. This time I had no time to think of options. Just as I started to instinctively tap the brakes I hit the dark object it!!! Straight on!!! The garbage bag undulated and hovered before me and then was swept away in a whirlwind; caught between the gentle night breeze and the forceful airflow caused by my car. My heart skipped a few more beats. The passengers all woke with a start. They were quickly losing faith in my driving skills. Geez but the phsycological damage that darn garbage bag caused!
We were almost there, about 15 minutes and we would have finally arrived to our desination city of Marquette. It was almost 2:00 a.m. and I was going about 40 mph. All of a sudden I found myself in a construction zone. Once again I was caught off guard due to the circumstances; it was dark, it was late, I was tired, I have no depth perception and I did not anticpate the unexpected construction barrels. The car knicked one of the barrels. I jerked the steering wheel to the right to avoid hitting any more. My heart skipped another few beats, the barrel rolled out of sight and the passengers awoke with a jolt. Good thing we were almost there!
I never new "B" objects were so dangerous.
*Gives a new meaning to the name of Thumper
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