More Tales From the Road

When we got up Wednesday morning I didn’t even bother trying to smuggle Savannah outside.

What? You act like you’ve never seen me sit before.

It was too early and I was still tired so there was no way I was lugging her down the stairs. Plus I figured the exercise would be good for her but more importantly it would make her tired for the remainder of the trip.

I then loaded up the car and pulled it to the front of the hotel so we could keep an eye on Savannah while we went down for breakfast.

Not that she really does anything other than move to the front seat so she has a better view to look out the windows trying to find us.

Buffet with a Side of Creepy

For hotel breakfast the food wasn’t terrible. But the people sitting to our right were just weird.

That’s not true, it wasn’t everyone at the table, just the man. The other two people seemed normal.

His full beard and fuzzy sweater made him look odd but it was how he talked to and looked at the young girl sitting with them that was creepy.

The girl, who was somewhere in the 10-14 range, definitely wasn’t a product of the man and woman at the table. At first we thought she was adopted but based on the conversation they were having it appeared they hadn’t been around her very long.

Creepy was asking her what she wanted to do with her life, how she was doing in school, as well as religious stuff.

The conversation itself wasn’t as creepy as how he said it. How he was looking at the girl is what gave us the heebie jeebies.

He was leaning on the table staring at her while he talked and listened.

I'm just listening intently, not staring creepily.

For all I know he may have been the nicest person in the world but he was creeping us out.

If it hadn’t been for me wanting more biscuits and gravy we would have gotten out of there sooner than later.

“It’s a Major Award. I Won It!”

I put on some Kid Rock to help wake us up and about an hour after we were on the road I was given a special award.

Out of all the cars on I-57, I was singled out to be the recipient of a distinguished driver certificate.

Me: Uh-oh. I think he’s coming to get me.
Tammy: What? Really? What have I been telling you?

Look at the lights, I must have won a major award!

She had been telling me that I better not get another ticket. I got a speeding ticket mid-October for doing 41 in a 25 zone. I was pissed because a. I was coming downhill and b. I was doing 41.

It’s one thing if I’m doing say, 81 in a 65 zone because at least I’m enjoying getting to go fast. But getting tagged doing 41 downhill when I was riding the breaks sucked.

I saw the lights go on and knew I was in trouble on more than one level.

I immediately began the process everyone does where they slow down to the speed limit in hopes the cop will see that I realized the error of my ways and decide there’s no need to pull me over.

Me: Yup, he’s coming after me.
Tammy: I swear, Jason. If you get your license suspended I’m gonna be so pissed if I have to drive you to work.
Me: You’d drive me to work? I didn’t think that would even be an option. I thought you’d just make me take the train.
Tammy: Oh yeah. I forgot about that. I’d just make you do that instead.

I found my way to the side of the road and put the car in park. At this point no words were coming out of Tammy’s mouth, but she seemed to be having a conversation with someone based on the way she kept shaking her head and pursing her lips.

Image me with tentacle-like nose hairs fluttering above my upper lip.

I rolled down my window as I saw the officer approaching. When he got to the car I couldn’t help but think of two things: that he looked like the guy from the Roc TV show and that he had out-of-control nose hair.

It was as if they had some hypnotic trance over me because I couldn’t stop staring at them while he was talking to me.

He told me I was doing 81, that the speed limit was only 65, checked my insurance card and took my license back to his car.

I immediately affixed my gaze on his nose whiskers when he returned with my Distinguished Driver Certificate and explained what steps I had to take.

When he walked away I asked Tammy if she saw what I had seen.

Me: Did you see his nose hairs?
Tammy: What? No.
Me: Oh my God, they were crazy long. I don’t know how he left the house with them hanging all over the place like that. I know what his kids need to get him for Christmas, a nose hair trimmer.

Tammy didn’t think that was very funny.

Tammy: You need to write a letter to Kid Rock letting him know that you get speeding tickets when you listen to his music. No more Kid Rock for the rest of the trip.

What really sucked was that I was 2-3 minutes away from the Missouri state line where the speed limit would have been 70.

Arguments for the Defense

The defense argues that the honor should actually be stricken from the record.

The Petite Passenger and the defendant.

Yes, we admit that the defendant “earned” the award, but he should have never been in that location at the time it occurred.

Instead, guilt should be bestowed upon his
Petite Passenger.

Had the schedule set forth by the defendant been followed by the Petite Passenger then the pair would have never been in Cairo, Illinois at the time the award was given.

The defendant’s schedule had them stopping for the night in Sikeston, Missouri some 90+ miles SOUTH of Marion and 30+ miles south of Cairo.

Had the defendant’s schedule been followed the couple would have actually been somewhere around Hayti, Missouri at the time of the award ceremony.

The Petite Passenger’s failure to comply with the defendant’s schedule created a stressful environment which in turn triggered the defendant’s need to drive above the posted speed limit in an attempt to get them back on schedule.

The Badge of the White Rabbit goes too...

The blatant disregard by the Petite Passenger, as evidenced by her nekkidness upon the defendant’s return from having his car serviced, clearly shows that our client isn’t deserving of such a prestigious award.

Instead we ask that the court remove the award from our client and honor the Petite Passenger with the Badge of the White Rabbit.

The Badge of the White Rabbit must be displayed at all times to serve as a warning to future parties, acquaintances, family and friends of the Petite Passenger’s propensity to postpone punctuality.

No Time to Waste

We pulled into Tupelo around 3 p.m. on Wednesday and headed to my sister’s bakery, Sweet Treats.

Tammy, who didn’t seem to care about time less than 24 hours earlier, felt as if there was no time to waste when we got there.

In less than 2 minutes (literally) my Mom knew about the award I received a few hours earlier.

I had planned to let the family know about it over a toast at dinner but instead Tammy spilled the beans while hugging my Mom.

“I Hear You Knockin’, But You Can’t Come In”*

After we left the bakery, we decided to stop by my sister’s house to surprise scare my nephews.

We parked where they couldn’t see us, snuck up to the front door and started banging on it. Their dog came running to the door barking hysterically but there was no sign of The Boys.

I kept banging on the door but saw no movement other than the dog running from the stairs and back to the door.

I eventually had my sister, Goob, text them to let them know I was at the door.

Parker finally opened the door to let us in and said he didn’t hear us knocking because he was in his room playing video games.

Me: You were just scared.
Parker: I wasn’t. I didn’t even hear you.
Me: It’s OK to say you were scared. If ya scared, say ya scared.

I knew there was sposed to be two of the three boys there so I asked Parker where Junior, the youngest, was and he told me he was sleeping.

We headed up to Goob’s room and found Junior sleeping on the bed. I decided it would be fun to try and wake him up.

I turned the TV up as loud as it would go. Nothing.

I put Savannah on the bed where she walked over him. Nothing.

I turned the ceiling fan up as high as it would go. Nothing.

I put one of his arms on his head. Nothing.

At this point I was starting to get worried and thought maybe he wasn’t alive. Fortunately I saw his chest moving up and down and proceeded in my attempts to wake him up.

I threw the covers off of him. Nothing.

Junior’s toe claws weren’t this bad.

That’s when I saw it. I even did a double-take to make sure if what I had seen was correct. I moved in to get a better look then told Tammy she had to see this.

Junior had some wickedly long toe claws. I’m talking about he-could-scurry-up-a-tree toe-claws.

I sat down on the bed and whispered, “Junior.” He woke up, looked around dazed and when he realized we were all standing there tried to push me away with his feet.

I was off the bed so fast.

Me: Whoaaa… Don’t touch me with your feet.

Once I got away I teased him a little about his toe claws.

Me: I bet all of your socks have holes in the toes because as soon as you put them on you rip the ends off. But I bet you could climb a telephone pole really fast though.

* Disclaimer: The length of Junior’s toe claws should in no way be construed as Goob being a bad Mom to The Boys. As a business owner and Mother of three boys, all of whom are very active in sports, she is constantly running them to practice, games, school, etc. Junior is of the age where he can be held accountable for his toe claws and accepts full responsibility.

Do You Smell Something?

Is that a mixture of dog poop and puke?

We played with them a few minutes and headed back to our car just as Goob was dropping off Peyton, her oldest son, from hockey practice.

He got out of the car and came over to give me a hug. When he put his arm around me I got a whiff of something.

Since I had just walked through the yard I thought I had stepped in dog poop and brushed it off.

He went around and gave Tammy a hug while we talked to Goob about trying to wake up Junior.

She told Peyton to get his stinky hockey stuff out of her car because she had to get back to the bakery.

When we got in the car to head to Mom’s Tammy asked me a question.

Tammy: Did Peyton stink?
Me: Is that what that was? I thought I stepped in dog poop.
Tammy: I don’t think it was dog poop.
Me: I noticed it when he hugged me but thought I stepped in something, so maybe it was him.
Tammy: It smelled like someone puked on him. I didn’t want to say anything to him because I wasn’t sure.

Turns out it WAS Peyton.

From what I’ve been told the hockey pads have an unbearably bad smell, kinda like dog poop and vomit.

Settling In

We visited with my step-dad awhile once we got to their house and unpacked.

Tammy headed off to take a shower while I fell asleep on the bed to Savannah snoring on the floor.

Tammy loved the lasagna we had for dinner.

Tammy: That lasagna was so good.
Me: It was alright.
Tammy: Are you crazy? I thought it was awesome.
Me: That’s because all you had to eat since breakfast was candy.
Tammy: Shut up.