Rockin' the Van

Not too long ago all of us (meaning the whole lot of the dysfunctional family) had to go somewhere together.  This in itself is usually traumatic, especially when the time in the van is longer than say 11 or 12 minutes.  Yes, 12 minutes is just about the limit for us.  After that someone either gets emotional, pissed off, or decides to let one rip which causes someone else to have to roll down a window then another gets ticked off because her hair is whipping around her face from the breeze.  No names (maybe me) to be mentioned.

That's neither here nor there and not really what this post is about.  No judging.

What it IS about is learning that my spouse who is only 9 months older than I am can tend to act like a fuddy duddy.  For example, when having a bonfire and someone (again no names) comes up with an innocent game of "Jump The Fire", he's the one to point out how dangerous it can be and someone's going to get burned.  Oh come on.....really?  We are all pretty good jumpers.  I've won that game countless times and only singed my leg hairs on one occasion.

So, we all hop in the van.  There's a bit of bickering from the 2 shorties about which one of them gets to be cool and sit in the back with the teen, but that doesn't last more than 7 minutes.  After everyone is settled and buckled in, we head to our destination.

It's eerily quiet for a moment.  I can hear people breathing.  Not good.  Not good at all.  I turn on the radio.  I hear some talking...thinking it was a commercial, I let it go for a moment.  A few minutes later, still more talking.  WTF?  Where's the music, dammit?  And why is this station so flippin static-y?

I ask the spouse:  Hey you, why is this station so FLIPPIN static-y??

The spouse:  It's AM.

Me:

Still Me:  It's fucking WHAT??  Are you fucking kidding me??  Seriously?  AM as in TALK RADIO??  

He gives some spiel about radio waves, transmitters and whatnot.  I look at him like he's grown a second head.  I think, who ARE you??  When did you become my Dad??  AM??  Where's Bruno Mars with Uptown Funk??  Where's SHUT UP AND DANCE WITH ME??  

Where's my FLIPPIN muuuuuu-zic??

I'm acting like a spoiled brat.  I know this.  The teen is actually quiet, taking it all in, probably jotting down pointers to use on me some day.  The Lil Lady is sitting there, smirking.  My serious Little Man says:  "Come on, Dad.  Turn on her music.  Don't you want to rock the van with Mom?"

The spouse looks at me, he's got that gleam in his eye.....you know the one.  I may or may not have rocked some vans in my lifetime, not this one playing AM TALK RADIO though.  But seriously, if all you listen to is blah blah blahblah blah, when the hell do you lighten up?  How do you unwind?? No wonder he's afraid to jump the freakin fire!

So I get to jam a little, sing and shout a little, and even rock the van a little.....just like the shorties and I do after I pick them up from school.  I think I even saw the old fuddy duddy tapping the steering wheel a few times.

Mission accomplished.

Next challenge?

Peace out, people.  And don't forget to rock the van once in a while.  It's good therapy.

Just T.