A few years later, while heading on yet another family trip down 10 east, my father passed down a bit of travel wisdom. He told his young, naive, impressionable daughter to 'make sure daddy stays awake and doesn't miss the exit or we'll fly right into the ocean'. YES! You read that right - playing mind games with small children and toeing that screwed-up-for-life line.
Here, I'll illustrate it for you so you truly get the horror that was going through my mind:
A few years later, 'daddy' would play a similar prank on my grandfather by explaining to me that I needed to remind my poor forgetful grandpa to check his gas gauge constantly as we motorhomed it to Ohio. I did my duty, and was anxious the entire vacation.
Now that I've grown up, I can see that those roadtrip antics weren't things I needed to worry about. Ok, maybe the gas thing. Only god and myself know how many times I promised something in return for making a gas station appear on the dusty desolate horizon! Behind the wheel is where I feel most comfortable (ahem, cough, cough, control freak) and this is a good thing as I'd spend the majority of my 20s crossing the US, back and forth. Kinda like Forest Gump, same good tunes but way less hairy.