At some point during the drive across the country I did not freak out when we crossed the Wyoming border into Nebraska because I forgot Nebraska existed next to Wyoming. I did not pull over to the side of the road yelling at the GPS for sending us into a completely different state and getting us lost. I did not call Dirt Diver frantic only to hang the phone up on him in the middle of his laughter at his wife's stupidity.
During the drive I remembered to check the oil, brake fluid, coolant, fuses, tow hitch, tire pressure by myself. At every truck stop, rest stop, and gas station I would never in a million years smile big when a trucker would make a comment about a pretty girl sitting under the hood of a truck. I found it offensive and tasteless that they would assume I didn't know what to do. And at other times I would never expect 'Tater to get oily and greasy to check the fluids herself.
After crossing the Oregon border into Idaho upon needing gas, I did not sit at the pump for 20 minutes waiting for an attendant. I did not storm into Love's Truck Stop, pissed and tried, to complain to the cashier only to be laughed at when reminded that I am no longer in Oregon. Upon that awakening, I sure as heck did not skip to the pump, refuel my truck and bask in the smells of gasoline for being able to pump myself.
When we stopped for the night I being the considerate and strict disciplining mother that I am; did not let the kids play leap frog from bed to bed to burn off the extra energy they had. I would never beg the hotel attendants for a room on the first floor surrounded by no one so that my children could be loud and unruly for an hour or so till they dropped like flies.
Upon arguments between 'Tater and Lil t'; I did not blast that horrible Micheal Jackson's hit cd that Dirt Diver insisted on buying a year ago. I would never force the kids to listen to me rock it out and sing horribly off key for an hour till I could see that the argument subsided and they were desperate to send me to an early death.
Upon stopping in Wyoming at a truck stop to use the restrooms, I was not blown onto my butt in the middle of the parking lot for the kids to break out into burst of laughter that evolved into hyperventilation. Nope I did not get a can of Ass Whip from Mother Nature.
I would never in a million years create a game based on Road Kill. I would not award the kids and myself points for being able to spot it a mile away let alone what animal it was or the approximate length of time gone by. I did not find humor in the kids complaints about Illinois lack of road kill, thus halting in the game for a couple hours. I also did not find it hilarious when Monkey cried that we couldn't pick the deers up off the roads to eat. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get him to understand the difference between hunting a deer and road kill deer for our food.
When we finally got to the Post I did not get turned away from one gate and sent to another. I did not give the guard a piece of mind for this stupid rule. Upon arriving at the other gate for the U-haul inspection; Monkey did not burst into full fledged screaming about needing to go pee. While sitting in the inspection line, I did not spot a portapotty to my left. I did not instruct 'Tater to take Monkey out to go pee. When yelled at by the guard for allowing my children to leave the vehicle I did not yell back that either he can let me on the friggen post now or he can let my kid pee. I did not find it funny that they did not inspect my trailer because things had shifted and they didn't want anything to fall out. I did not end up getting into a cussing match with another guy over proof of insurance. It's not my fault the kids lost the paper copy, I had the digital on my phone. If he would have accepted the digital proof I would not have sat at the gate for 40 minutes with a screaming baby, a whining toddler, a yelping dog and a crying cat in 80 degree weather. I did not find it funny when they finally let us go through the guard said he hoped my husband had a beer for me.
When we finally pulled up to the house, I did not instruct 'Tater to say hi to daddy and then to get me a beer. I did not give the death glare to Dirt Diver when he complained about me taking the last of his 4 beers. I did not remind him that I just drove 2800 miles ALONE and if he wanted to see another sunrise he best bite his tongue and let me enjoy a cold beer. Amazingly the complaints stopped.
You think my week is over yet? Oh no, not even close. Stay tune for tomorrow’s post as I illustrate how someone who HAPPENS to look like me did the most careless and reckless thing ever!