Just for you Dad, and for those of you who might be drinking Gatorade right now, my apologies in advance, this post is a bit "scatological" (one of my Dad's favorite words, especially when we all get talking about gross stuff at the dinner table).
We went up to the North Shore of Minnesota for a much-needed weekend away. I drove up earlier on Friday and Brian joined us late that night when he got off work.
This is now the second time I have done the whole mom-alone-in-the-minivan-for-four-hours-with-all-three-boys thing. Overall, I have it down pretty well, but somehow the threat of "don't make me come back there!" isn't as effective when you are the one driving. They kind of call your bluff.
About an hour into the trip, my older kids started in on the whole "I am going to die if I don't get a drink" deal (I was thinking the same thing, but of a different variety, ironically).
So we stopped to get gas and I bought them each a Gatorade. It was the smallest one they had.
Kind of like that.
I made them swear on all that is holy Gatorade that they would not drink the whole thing. I reminded them that we were nearing Eli's bedtime and I didn't want to have to stop and deal with three kids alone, with one of them either sleeping or screaming, in a nasty bathroom, that you don't send them into alone because it looks like a set out of Hollywood for a place where a child abduction would happen. (How was that for a run-on sentence?)
We swear Mom, we won't drink it all. We totally promise. Pinky promise!Off we go. And an hour and a half later, I hear Caleb toss his bottle on the floor. And gee, if it didn't sound completely and totally empty.
We are now 2 1/2 hours into a four hour trip.
You know where this is going, don't you?
Three hours into the trip, we are officially past all signs of civilization. The stars are amazing. The two-lane highway is narrow and empty. There are no shoulders on the road as the snow is deep and they have run out of places to plow it. And the "towns" consist of two buildings that are all dark.
CALEB: Moooommmm, I totally have to go to the bathroom. Like now!
YOURS TRULY: I am sorry to hear that Caleb. We'll be there in a half an hour.
CALEB: Can't you find us a bathroom? Seriously Mom, I drank that whole thing of Gatorade. And there was a lot.
YOURS TRULY: Um, yeaaah. I got nothing for you here Caleb. Look around. We are in the middle of nowhere. I will stop as soon as I can.
CALEB: Can't you just pull over?
YOURS TRULY: No Caleb, because there are no shoulders on the road now so there is a pretty decent chance you and I would get hit by another car while you were peeing. And how embarrassing would that be?
CALEB: I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!!!
And here it was. The moment I may be the most glad I have boys and not girls.
YOURS TRULY: Caleb, since you did such a fine job of emptying the Gatorade bottle, it is yours to use if you need to.
He got it. And did so.
It was like the end of a bad frat party in the back of my minivan. All I could hope is that I didn't get pulled over for any reason at that moment.
He finished and handed me the capped off bottle and said:
That was disgusting.
To which I replied,
You're not kidding, I am the one with it sitting in the front seat of my car, next to my Diet Coke, which I cannot even think about drinking anymore.
I will be Clorox wiping out my car tonight.
