It’s day two of the dreaded staycation and we are currently stuck in traffic on the way out to Harrison Hot Springs. All hell is breaking loose as I speak.
The journey didn’t start off like that. Indeed only ten minutes earlier, an unusual and unexpected harmonious silence had settled over the car. Lance was asleep. Sock on. Lola was staring out of her window. And the older girls were giggling in the far back.
But then we rolled to an unceremonious and as-far-as-we-could-tell permanent halt. And that was the end of that.
Within five minutes, Lola had startled Lance prematurely awake with gleeful cries of “Lancy Dancy!” The result of which was that he was now inconsolable. Half crying, half groaning, desperately miserable. Throwing his dummy onto the floor with great determination every time one of us dare proffer it in his general direction.
Lola, in BIG trouble for waking her baby brother, was trying to break away from her unreasonable parents, furiously trying to unbuckle herself from her car seat, straining wildly against the straps that were pinning her down, and kicking the back of her dad’s chair.
And an intense chorus of complaints was being launched from the back seat with increasing frequency:
“My throat hurts.”
“Carly’s bugging me.”
“Amy just called me weird.”
“Lance just threw his dummy at me.”
“Are we nearly there?”
As I sat in the front of the car, trying to drown out all the commotion behind me, it slowly occurred to me that the greatest irony about being stuck in the car with all these kids on a dreaded staycation daytrip (that I did not actually want to be a part of) was that the one thing I was actually trying to break free from on this bloody staycation was the one thing I found myself currently trapped in the car with.
More specifically, my children.
Read more at: http://12hourstobedtime.blogspot.ca/2012/07/what-i-really-need-is-v...