I love these crazy monkeys. And sometimes, they really rise to the occasion.
On Tuesday, we started out on yet another road trip, this time to Sunshine’s National Pony Softball tournament. These three were along for the ride. Sunshine was just ahead in another family’s car and we had successfully completed 3/4 of the trip. With only two hours left to go, my car suddenly died.
I’ll spare you all of the long details of all that transpired over the next 9 hours, but it was enough to make even the world’s most secure, well-adjusted child have a screaming fit. I stayed calm and tried to make the most of the situation, and I don’t think the Littles ever realized I had not planned all that happened. I was impressed and amazed with their flexibility, cheerfulness, and ability to have just plain fun no matter where they are or what is going on.
It was hot in the car with no A/C and since I had to make them stay in their seats and belted — in case someone hit us — I gave them all a bottle of water. They drank the water gratefully, then peeled the labels of the bottles, wrapped them around their wrists, and called them “watches.” Then they managed to have an hour long conversation in which almost every sentence involved one of them looking at the “watch” and saying it was time for them to go to work, time for swimming, etc. They never once complained.
Because it is terribly humid and hot in Louisiana, when we finally got off the freeway shoulder and into a truck stop parking lot, I bought them all their very own soft drink. I later realized it was a terrible move; all that sugar at once had consequences with their intestines. What was I thinking? No matter, they took it all in stride and the real delight for them was the wrappers that came off the bottle. There was a box-fan in the waiting room of the garage, and they joyfully killed an hour (or more) just letting the wrappers blow around the room and trying various things to weigh them down.
We were helped by a number of strangers, all referred to politely by my children as “Mr. Man.” They thanked every person who helped us and mercifully — and miraculously, if you read my blogs — not one person had even one tiny fit. When we finally arrived at the hotel at the end of a difficult 17 hour day, they went gratefully to bed with smiles on their faces. They were put to the test as few kids are and they passed with flying colors. I am grateful!