tommy and i left town saturday morning for jackson, mississippi for our friend, cathy’s 40th birthday party. it was going to be a short trip–leave saturday, come home sunday. the drive averages out to be about 6 hours–5 and 1/2 if i’m driving–7 if tommy’s driving. the difference is he likes to stop every hour or every 60 miles, whichever comes first. i am like a nazi when it comes to road trips–basically, everyone straps on a depends undergarment, is instructed to grab a bag of beef jerky and a bottle of water and is warned not to complain or you ride on the hood. this trip was kid free, so threatening tommy to tow the line or suffer the consequences seemed harmful to my well being (not to mention the last time i tried to strap him to the hood of the car for asking for the millionth time, “are we almost there?” i threw out my back–so i try and refrain from hoisting him over my shoulder whenever possible).
about an hour into the drive, we saw this station wagon pulled over on the side of the highway. it had a u-haul trailer hooked up to it that had lost a tire along the way. the people were standing outside the car sort of scratching their heads. i imagined they were wondering what the hell happened. i turned to tommy and said, “why don’t they just unhitch that trailer and have a wrecker come tow it away? that’s what i would do.”
he said, in his very tommy sort of way, “what if that’s their valuables and they don’t want to just abandon them on the side of the road?”
pfft. “what valuables? it’s a 4 foot by 5 foot trailer. what could they have in there that’s so valuable?–their kids?” and then i added, “if i was traveling along and had my kids in the back in a u-haul trailer and it blew a tire, i might see that as my opportunity to ditch them. it would be HOURS before they realized they were no longer attached to mom’s car. by then i could be half way to california.”
tommy laughed, “you would not.”
“oh yes i would buddy boy. BUT! if i had my handbag collection in the back of the u-haul trailer i would wait all day on the side of the road for someone to fix it. no siree. you wouldn’t catch ME leaving my purses to fend for themselves. what if they were absconded by thieves with no appreciation for marc jacobs or fendi.”
tommy sat silently for a moment and then said, “you know you’ll never get that mother of the year award if you keep saying things like that.”
i waved him off. “that ship sailed a long time ago. i have a better chance of getting eaten by a shark. oh wait. shark attacks are more and more prevalent these days. why, just a few weeks ago ryan seacrest was attacked by one.
tommy looked at me, his eyes widening. “is that true?”
“well, sort of. it was a baby sand shark and it bit his little toe. i don’t even think it broke the skin. technically though?–shark attack.”
tommy rolled his eyes and said, “you’re unbelievable.”
“i know. ooh. scratch the shark attack scenario. i have a better chance of getting struck by lightening in our front yard than of winning a mother of the year award.”
tommy chimed in, “do you remember a few years ago when lightening struck our house?”
i did not remember this. “was i there?”
“yes, we all were. it happened in the middle of the night.”
“so basically, i have been struck by lightening and technically our house is IN our front yard. you know what this means don’t you?”
tommy looks confused. “what?”
“i’m totally going to win a mother of the year award!”
he REALLY starts to laugh now and says, “don’t hold your breath.”
he was right. who was i kidding. “i won’t,” i conceded. “wait. can you die from holding your breath?”
“yes, ding dong, it’s called suffocating.”
“i thought you needed a pillow for that–or a plastic bag.”
“nope. i think if you hold your breath long enough you will die.”
i was dumbfounded. why are we not teaching our children–AND the children of the world the dangers of holding your breath. i made a mental note to send an email to the surgeon general about maybe heading up a special task force to help educate the public on the dangers of holding one’s breath. outrageous. and right under our noses. well, the good news is, now that we know, we can stop it before someone gets killed. i just hope we’re not too late.
a little while later we see an suv with 2 hot pink deer stickers on the back. i’ve seen these before but never pink. and never 2 on one vehicle. i think it means they hunt or something like that. i said to tommy, “look at those stickers. i wonder if the pink deer head signifies a woman hunter.”
tommy quickly added, “2 women hunters. maybe they’re lesbians.”
i shook my head. “man, can you imagine a worse place to be if you’re a lesbian. it’s a wonder the good folks of mississippi haven’t strung them up by now.”
tommy said, “worse than a lesbian hunter in mississippi would be a NON hunting lesbian–who is also black.”
“and a liberal.”
“and worships the devil.”
“and burns the american flag on a regular basis.”
“who is also a vegetarian.”
“and jewish.”
“who just had an abortion.”
i think we about covered it all. so, the person who has it the worst in mississippi is a black, jewish, flag burning, devil worshipping, peta loving, liberal lefty, non-meat eating lesbian who just had an abortion. does such a woman exist? she sounds so exotic, no? i started thinking: where COULD this person live? i settled on canada. they’ll let about ANYONE live there.
a little while later we pulled over and tommy took over driving. it wasn’t long before we passed a highway patrolman going almost 90. i wanted to warn tommy but it was too late. the cop already had his lights on and was quickly approaching. tommy seemed to think he was going after someone else and i was like, “dude, it’s you.”
we pulled over and waited as the officer handed tommy a citation for going 86 in a 60. and all i could think was, “i’m soooo glad it wasn’t me.”
we got back on the road and tommy was now cruising along at 58 mph. something had to be done. according to my calculations we really needed to be nearing 90 the whole way to get there on my schedule. i demanded he pull over and let me drive. after balking a little he did as he was told. i patted him on the back and said, “don’t sulk. maybe i’ll get pulled over too and then we could have matching tickets. then you would realize i’m not perfect. i’m human just like everybody else–only a tad better.” silence. “you DO think i’m perfect right?”
without looking at me tommy said, “nope.”
“almost perfect?”
“not even close.”
hmm. well, miss not-even-close-to-perfect didn’t get caught speeding and had us there in record time.
now where’d i leave that damn mother of the year award? oh right. i was told i shouldn’t hold my breath. aww. tommy really does care.







{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow! I feel even closer to you now that you travel to Jackson Mississippi! I live in Flowood – right outside of Jackson. Love your blog….I’m stalking it now – reading your archives….ha!
I love how this so called “Hunter” would be a peta-lover as well. LOL
You rock.