The drive

Today, I made the journey with Kale to my parents house while Ep was still working. A two car trip was necessary thist time, so I packed us up and off we went. I had best laid plans and on par with all two year olds, Kale had his own set of plans.

I planned the journey (2.5 hours) to coincide with naptime. By 15 minutes into the trek, he was snoozing. Until a guy (stupid #1) swerved into my lane. I hit the brakes (and horn) and suddenly had an alert fella in the backseat. He went back into zone out mode and fell back asleep within about 10 minutes. All was well until yet someone else (stupid #2) decided to play interstate roulette and the brakes were once again tested. No horn this time, but the bright eyes in the back seat came alive and the word "Alma?" came forth. I told him no, we weren't in Alma and to go back to sleep. He didn't buy it. "Mema's house?". Yes, we are going to Mema's house in Alma, now go back to sleep and we will be almost there when you wake up. Nope. Not having it.

So, we stopped for mommy to potty (and Kale to wash his hands) and then hit the road again.

He proceeded to play with every toy I could reach and throw a fit when he put one in a place where he nor I could reach as we motored on down the road.

So what do you do when you are 2 years old and tired of your toys and bored going down the road? You start taking off your shoes and get frustrated. Your mommy helps you with the shoes and smartly keeps them so they don't get thrown. Then you pull your socks up to your chin, or at least try anyway. Then you get mad because you can't pull the socks off. Then you try your best to escape your car seat. When that doesn't work, you throw another fit. Then you decide to give your toys another try. And this time, when you get sick of the truck, you fling it. Said truck hits the middle console, a plastic part of the truck goes one way and bounces off the front windshield while the rest of the truck parks itself right in the bag where it started. Mommy gives you a stern comment about not throwing toys and you do your best at a "woe is me, my mommy is so mean" cry.

Thats when mommy puts on some music, turns up the volume a tad, and checks the backseat every few minutes through the rearview mirror to make sure that you haven't figured out how to escape your seat.

We arrived in Alma, safe and sound. There is a toy truck missing a small plastic piece that landed in the front passenger seat. Not bad.