First, there were road trips. In the olds days, P.K. (pre-kids), I would load up the car (one bag, maybe two if I was camping), leave in the morning and have a great drive. You know what it's like. You pull out, move to the fast lane, sit back and enjoy. Drive for hours, stopping rarely, moving at the highest the speed limit will allow. (Or, um... maybe just a little beyond that. You know. Umm...
"Ahem"
Okay, so what happens nowadays? Load up the car, with multiple bags. Well, that makes sense, with more people. Then you pull out, move to the fast lane, sit back...
"Dad, I gotta go paawteeeee."
Oh, yeah. Of course. we reached 30 minutes into the drive. Just arrived on the freeway. Just made it to the fast lane. Just sat back, ready to make some miles. And then comes the opera voice... "Poooootyyyyy". It's never "Father, if you please, could you perhaps pull over and let me relieve myself." Or even, "Hey dad, I need to use the restroom." Nope. "paaaaaaatiiiii."
Now, you have to fight your way back across all the lanes, exit the freeway, drive around looking for a restroom ("clean" restroom) and unpack the kids (those of you who have kids know it isn't as simple as stepping out of the car. For one thing, you have to say, "Okay, we're here. Let's get out of the car". Not once. Not twice. It varies, between 5 and 8 times). Then, of course, there's all the time it takes to reattach the kids to the backseat, refind the freeway, move your way back into the fast lane and, finally, sit back and really move.
"Get your motor running, head out on the highway."
"Daddy, I gotta go potteeeeee."
Dang it.
