Family Time

Standard

Making Memories

Whoopee! Road trip!

I love to make memories with my family.  So when my daughter                    mentioned a gymnastics meet two hours away I was excited.  Road trip!  A great opportunity to bond and build memories. Just the girls.  I was psyched.

I picked them up bright and early.  I even washed my car.  Two pre-teen granddaughters wasted no time strapping small screens on the back of my front seat head rests. Volume was adjusted to LOUD.  They each burrowed under separate blankets to block out the screen glare and stayed locked to the screens for two hours.  Rude dialogue from the adolescent movie blared in my ears and ricocheted through my  central nervous system.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

No, we are not having fun.  No remote control for me.  No ear phones for them.  No soothing music from my favorite satellite station.  Couldn’t be heard over the din.  No conversations with my daughter sitting right next to me in the front seat.  No way to hear her.  No eye contact.  She spent her time texting friends and family members who were lucky enough not to be in the car with us.  No memories being made.  No good ones anyway.  No bonding taking place.

The Only Good News

But there was some good news.  They didn’t nag the driver (me) with that relentless question we all dread.  The driver, close to insane was the first to ask, “ARE WE THERE YET?

Sometimes, forgetting that most of my grandkids are now teenagers or pre teens, my anticipation of these events is still in Disney mode.  But I’m having to dwell in a Beevis and Butthead world.  Sometimes reality sucks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s