We're going to the lake for the long weekend, which I was pretty excited about. Until I drove to work this morning. And heard this: "Your chances of dying in a fatal collision on the highway doubles on the long weekend"- said in sinister tone, which suddenly becomes light, adding: "Please drive carefully."
What the Fuck.
I don't much like the fact that there's a chance I might die out there on the highway, period. The fact that it has just doubled, as of midnight tonight, kind of has me freaking out.
So I plan on leaving tomorrow morning instead of tonight. As early as possible- 7:30. Get on that highway before all the drunk people.
7:30 is too early to be drunk, isn't it??
I think anything before 10 am is too early to be drunk.
Buzzed, maybe, yes, okay.
But if you're drunk on your ass at 7:30 am then you might have a problem.
Unless you're still drunk from the night before. Which is another story. Then you don't have a problem. You're just awesome to party with. Or you overstay your welcome. Or you're on drugs that make you stay up all night- "uppers" "meth" "speedballs"
I know all the lingo.
I watch Intervention.
Anyways. We're going to the lake tomorrow. Hopefully we will make it there.
I am considering whether or not to buy the kids a portable DVD player so they can watch a movie on the way up. The drive is two and a half hours, which doesn't sound half bad, but when I'm on my own (which I will be, of course. Honestly- if I ever get married again, it will not only be to an Irish dude, but to someone with a nice 9-5 job, a tax accountant or something. Not a food and beverage manager.) with the three of them, it's not pretty.
Frick, who am I kidding? Even if Geoff is with me, it's not pretty. He doesn't do anything. Last time he got mad at them, said if they didn't stop fighting they were going to have to walk.
That totally backfired.
"I want to walk!" Alex said, trying to break free of his restraint. "Walk!" he kept on calling.
Yes, threaten a kid that's writhing against his restraint system that if he doesn't stay quiet we're going to let him free.
That should work bloody brilliantly.
For the rest of the way there he screamed to get out and walk.
Way to go, Geoff.
Actually, honestly, it was me who made that threat. I cannot lie to you.
I don't know what I was thinking.
It's not the first time I've made a no good threat.
Last month when Gage had a dentist appointment he presented himself wearing a ripped pair of wrinkled jeans that were way too short on him- he looked like one of the kids I saw on a Dateline special- Children of the Appalachia. I told him to go change and he refused.
"If you're not going to change, then I'll just leave you at home."
Wait a minute. What did I just say??
As soon as I said it I knew it was a mistake.
"Sweet," he said, throwing himself back on the couch and picking up his DS.
Anyways, I don't care what Geoff says. The DVD player is an investment in myself and my sanity- possibly my safety. Last time I drove home from the lake with those kids I made it home in under two hours- and we stopped for lunch in PA. I accomplished this feat by first of all going way too fast, and secondly by passing nearly everybody that I saw, even if I was driving myself straight into oncoming traffic.
They'll swerve, I thought.
And if not, I'll either die on impact or be brain damaged enough that I cannot hear the constant bellowing of poorly sung Usher songs alternated with Dora songs alternated with urgent demands to go poopy and soothers being thrown at my head.
Either way, NO DOWN SIDE.
Have a good long weekend.