Road Trippin'

With Christmas approaching my wife and I will soon be hitting the road and hitting it hard.  I'm a southern boy who married a New York girl. Not New York as in the city.  New York as in damn near Canada.    

So what does that mean? Well:

The first time I visited it was 28 degrees.  In June.  

That the mere mentioning of the words sweet and tea make her wince.

That I have to stand by as a decoder when she speaks to certain family members, leaning into her ear like a translator. Pretent honey, think pretended.

That every time she watches college football I have to explain to her that no, it's not the super bowl.

That our son will probably not be playing rec league hockey but her ice skates make great bookends.

That she is still not used to the fact that there will be no chance of snow on Halloween.

That in the event that there is cold rain, schools will shut down and the closing will start scrolling below on the local news. Milk will become scarce as grocery stores are mobbed as soon as the weather man says there is a slight chance of –.

That macaroni and cheese is yellow, not white.  Yellow.

That up until the year 2000, Virginia lumped in two confederate generals with Martin Luther King Jr. and celebrated the puzzling holiday known as Lee/Jackson/King day.

Okay, I’m getting off topic. What it means is some seriously long road trips. I’ve been up to damn near Canada twice before. But now we have a kid, and he’s not the best road trip partner. He's good for a quick outing and if we are lucky he’ll sleep but there is something else. it gets better.

As things stand now we are also taking our two dogs, one of which is a little, well, let’s just say he has a certain zest for life.

So let’s take a look at this. There’s my wife and me, the kid, and two dogs on a thirteen hour drive. Are we there yet?

We’ve lined up a great house sitter, but that’s the easy part. Our house is potty trained and usually on good behavior. The cat is staying—no problems there, but my wife refusing to leave the dogs behind. We’ve tried to come up with alternatives. She’s against kenneling the dogs, and our husky has burned his bridges with dog sitters. So…. 

We plan on stopping somewhere in Pennsylvania at a halfway point so we need to find a hotel that accommodates dogs. Well one dog and one lunatic with fur.

So how will this work? I have no idea. If you pass what looks like a travelling circus in a Subaru somewhere near the Mason/Dixon line be sure to wave. My wife says it will be an adventure and she’s right, but so was the Hindenburg.