Over the Hills and through the Woods… (Part 2 of 2)
18 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
(Missed part 1? Click here )
What’s worse than being stuck in bumper to bumper traffic that is not moving with a van full of screaming, unhappy kids? Well, not much to be perfectly honest. I’d rather pull out my teeth one by one with a rusty butterknife than sit through that again. Luckily, we were only six miles from the next gas station exit! Oh…thank God!!! That exit seemed like an oasis in a desert with the promise of rest rooms, water for the baby’s bottle, the chance to change the little ones and feed the big ones. The only problem was we couldn’t be going any slower unless we had been going backwards!
As we inched along, we anxiously counted down each tenth of a mile. With every start and stop, the kids only became more irritable. We kept turning up the volume of the TV trying to drown out the sound, to no avail. The screams only got scarier and louder. At one point, Addison was gurgling because she was suffocating in her own tears and snot and the youngest baby was scratching desperately at the plastic sides of her car seat trying the claw her way out…juice cups were flying in all directions, the van was shaking with the motion of every tantrum, and my sister looked a little like a crazy person about to snap.
One and a half hours of this super-sized funness later and we could finally see the exit! Hallelujah!!! Then, would you like to know what happened???? Just guess…because my eye is twitching just thinking about it! They fell asleep! Are you $&@#% kidding me?! We pull into the gas station and assess the situation to make a plan: big kids are quiet but have to pee, and the babies are just sitting there like they gave up in defeat. So I grab Hannah and a baby bottle so we can both use the restroom and I can make milk, then my sister can do the same and we’ll change both babies’ diapers in the car. I look at my sister. Cool? Cool. Let’s do this!
So Hannah and I tear into the gas station like somebody set us on fire, and I realize there is a line with a few people. Damn! Well, we waited this long right? As it begins to dawn on me that the pee-line is moving half as quickly as the traffic line on the highway, I begin to worry a little about my sister being left in the car with the other three kids. By this time there are five more women behind me, five in front, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Another painful 15 minutes goes by as Hannah is pinging around kamikaze style from aisle to aisle, rearranging candy bars and knocking down chip displays, taking full advantage of mom being stuck in a stationary position. As I’m making the one millionth pitiful attempt to coax her into standing “the hell still and keep your mouth SHUT!” (how it actually came out), SHE came inside.
She, meaning someone who looked exactly like my sister, carrying three children through the gas station door. But that was where the resemblance ended. This woman was absolutely crazy! This woman had finally had enough. She blew in with the force of a category four tropical Hurricane, eyes blazing as she scanned the interior for me like the terminator hunting for his prey. I felt her eyes lock with mine, death rays singeing my eyelashes, as a devil-growl roared from her throat and hollered, BRITTNEY! Fix your baby some milk!!!”
The next thing I know, the baby car seat comes sliding across the floor stopping in front of my feet with a baby whose eyes were now as big as footballs. Something came out of my mouth as I began to yell back my reply, letting her know I wasn’t having a freaking birthday party inside either, but I’m sure it didn’t make any sense to anyone else around us. Our conversation at that point probably looked more like a scene out of Twighlight when two werewolves begin to attack each other. Miraculously, everybody in the filling station shut up, looked at their feet, and the line started moving a lot faster. I imagine we were a pretty frightful looking bunch: two women with children on the edge is scarier than a group of thugs with guns, I assure you.
I grabbed my kids, took care of my business, grabbed some snacks, and yelled at the guy checking me out. Why? I’m not really sure but it just seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the moment when you have twenty people staring at you in fear. Then I grabbed all four kids with my sister on my heels and we tore out of the gas station with as much force as we came in with. I can only image the sighs of relief that went around the room after our exit.
After loaded back into the car, with all settled in and happy, my sister and I were able to breathe for a second. Suddenly, the van was filled with fits of our hysterical laughter as we recalled the playback of what just happened and inched our way back onto the highway. One thing I am thankful for is that I am not from Carlisle, AR. Chances are there is now a warrant out for my arrest for disturbing the peace, child endangerment, domestic terrorism, or any number of things.
