The old Suburban is loaded up and I’m gathering the last few important things (like snacks) that we need to get this show on the road. JJ told me yesterday that he’d packed everything “but my patience, Mom.”
I sent him back in to look for it.
I’m accustomed to long car rides from way back. When I was a youngster, my family would drive from Guatemala up through Mexico to visit our family in Texas. By the way, it takes 5 VERY long days to traverse Mexico when you’re in the back of a Fiat separated from your brother by a line of duct tape that has been strategically placed to delineate the exact middle of the seat.
Because that’s important to know when you’re twelve and your brother annoys the snot out of you.
My dad wasn’t one to stop much along the road. He was what we call an “efficient driver”. We only stopped for gas, and one had better take of any and all other needs at that time because we were NOT going to stop again until the needle hit Empty. (One time I asked to stop to use the “facilities” and he pulled the car over by a cactus field. That was the last time I asked.)
We tried to eat/snack in the car so as not to waste precious time, and I have fond memories of my mom passing back peanut butter saltine cracker sandwiches for my brother and I to eat, and sometimes, if she was feeling like sharing for a special treat, she’d hand us a can of Vienna Sausages.
Or as we called them, Vi-eee-ner Weenies.
On one particular trip, we pulled up to the border crossing between Mexico and Guatemala. It was near noon, and it became quickly apparent that the agents had designs on our stash of snacks, especially the weenies. They made up some cockamamie story about how Mexico was not going to allow the sausages through because of some trade dispute over canned products, so we were going to have to forfeit them at the border. My dad was not going to give them the satisfaction of taking our stuff, so he announced that instead of forfeiting them, we would just eat them.
All fourteen cans.
I can still vividly remember smashing those Vi-eeners in between saltines and eating can after can of them.
I thought I was going to hurl.
That reminds me, I still need to pack hurl bags for my carsick kid.
I’m so glad I sat down to write this.
I won’t be packing Vienna’s for the kids today. Nope, I’ve sworn off potted meat products after the Border Incident. I’ve got half of Nabisco’s inventory stashed in the front seat waiting to be handed out.
Now if I could just find that extra patience that’s gone missing…
Have a nice day.