On Family Car Trips

Family Car trips have been pretty acceptable in my recent life, in part due to our "family" just being me and my mother in the car, and as any one can attest to, I was the kid with "The Cool Mom." Rock music and napping have been staples of a long drive for decades.

Grandma, on the other hand, is not so much "The Cool Grandma." I bring this up because I will be waking up around 6 a.m. today to bring Grandma to a train station in Connecticut so that she can attend my cousin's college graduation all the way down in Maryland this weekend.

Last time I had to drive grandma solo I was taking her to a funeral. Funner than you'd imagine, except I was ragingly sick and thought it might be divine retribution for my seething hatred of churches. Beyond badmouthing the dead the whole trip up and back, Grandma was most concerned with getting to the funeral early, because she had to look like she gave a crap.

I informed her that I would not slow below about 70 mph because our exit was on the left and I could not slow down without changing lanes.

She demanded I slow or I would get a speeding ticket and make her late. Understand she didn't care about me being safe or getting a ticket, it was that getting caught breaking the law would inconvenience her.

After about twenty minutes of this I finally yelled at her that to slow down any further would result in us getting rear-ended and her likely death, which would be far less convenient for both of us and if she didn't like it I didn't give a shit.

Considering how matriarchal our family is, it's surprising how chauvinistic it can be. I could have thrown in, "And make me a sandwich!" at that moment and probably gotten away with it.

But I don't play that game.

I don't trust anyone else with my sandwiches.